


Unlife is Strange

by GOTFa2



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game), Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game), Until Dawn (Video Game), Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arthurian, Blood Drinking, But this will feature wendigos, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Cletic Mythology, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Cults, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Human/Vampire Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mark Jefferson is his own trigger warning, Misogyny, Murder, Polyamory, Positive morality routes are considered canon though, Pregnancy, Promiscuity, Rachel Amber has issues, Racism, Smut, The epilogue of "Redemption" isn't considered canon here, Until Dawn is mostly just referenced, Wendigo, and mentions of the events and characters of Until Dawn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 66,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GOTFa2/pseuds/GOTFa2
Summary: Those who die in darkness, find new life in the darkness; this is the first thing Rachel Amber learned upon awakening, as something less human, or more depending on who you ask. She gained a new mother in something ancient and terrible and now must heed her call, but something from her old life is calling her back, and she finds herself in need of new friends to help her.. On the flip side, reports of supernatural happenings in Beaver Creek lead to an attack on the small community, leaving Daniel Diaz and Chris Eriksen stranded and hunted in the wilderness; and nothing is going to stop Sean Diaz from ensuring his brother's safety. Both Sean and Rachel find themselves part of the same centuries old conspiracy, that boils down to a game played by a malevolent goddess, the war with her son, and the many pawns within.
Relationships: Cassidy/Sean Diaz, Cassidy/Sean Diaz/Finn, Elisabeth Ashbury/Jonathan Reid, Geoffrey McCullum & Jonathan Reid, Kate Marsh/Chloe Price, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Kate Marsh, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Victoria Chase, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Victoria Chase/Kate Marsh/Chloe Price, Rachel Amber & Maxine "Max" Caulfield, Rachel Amber/Chloe Price, Rachel Amber/Frank Bowers, Rachel Amber/Mark Jefferson, Rachel Amber/Mary Reid, Rachel Amber/Nathan Prescott, Rachel Amber/Steph Gringrich, Rachel Amber/Victoria Chase, Sean Diaz & Lyla Park, Sean Diaz/Finn, Victoria Chase/Kate Marsh
Kudos: 9





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> This story is one of two crossover projects of mine. The other is a crossover between "Carmilla: The Series" and "Pitch Perfect"; that story is called "Love's Sacrifices". Despite them being sister fics, do not expect them to tie in to one another. This story at least will have a tumblr blog on the side when more chapters come up. I have already written posts on my tumblr blog where I talk about my plans and revisions for this fic, as well as lore and character plans.
> 
> This is something I've been planning for a year and a half now, and had to due numerous revisions due to how ambitious this project alone is. I plan to write a few different "routes" for this story to go. Certain chapters that are applicable to certain routes will be listed as such. 
> 
> To keep it simple; Route A follows the Sacrifice Arcadia Bay & Parting Ways of "Life is Strange" and "Life is Strange 2"; Route B follows the Sacrifice Chloe and Redemption endings. I'm considering a Route C, which is the same as Route A, only Kate ended up committing suicide and is subsequently turned into a vampire as well, but that may complicate things.
> 
> There's also going to be flashback chapters, so things may be a little out of order.
> 
> Along with "Love's Sacrifices" this is a passion fic of mine, and may keep me from just writing smut stories over and over and over again. Although, there may be smut in this story, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own neither the Life is Strange series, Vampyr, nor any other work featured or referenced within this story; they are the property of their respective owners. I only own this fic, and original characters/elements within.
> 
> This story is one of two crossover projects of mine. The other is a crossover between "Carmilla: The Series" and "Pitch Perfect"; that story is called "Love's Sacrifices". Despite them being sister fics, do not expect them to tie in to one another. This story at least will have a tumblr blog on the side when more chapters come up. I have already written posts on my tumblr blog where I talk about my plans and revisions for this fic, as well as lore and character plans.
> 
> This is something I've been planning for a year and a half now, and had to due numerous revisions due to how ambitious this project alone is. I plan to write a few different "routes" for this story to go. Certain chapters that are applicable to certain routes will be listed as such.
> 
> To keep it simple; Route A follows the Sacrifice Arcadia Bay & Parting Ways of "Life is Strange" and "Life is Strange 2"; Route B follows the Sacrifice Chloe and Redemption endings. I'm considering a Route C, which is the same as Route A, only Kate ended up committing suicide and is subsequently turned into a vampire as well, but that may complicate things.
> 
> There's also going to be flashback chapters, so things may be a little out of order.
> 
> Along with "Love's Sacrifices" this is a passion fic of mine, and may keep me from just writing smut stories over and over and over again. Although, there may be smut in this story, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

**October, 2013**

A girl awakens in a dark room, but not the same one she was taken too. She is greeted by an older female voice in her head.

“Where…where am I ?”

_**“Hush now child, your dream is over."** _

“Where’s the light ? Where’s Nathan ? Where’s Mark-?"

_**“Light? That’s what people always say they see. And yet you wake in darkness? Do you know why that is child?”** _

“Who are you ? Answer my questions!"

_**“My my, quite demanding are you ? I will forgive your ignorance, for now. Your brain has been decaying for some time, as has the rest of your body, and it took more time trying to repair the damage. There’s still work to be done, but I’d say you’re almost as right as rain. The simple answer is, you were asleep and mommy woke you up. Now be a good little girl for mommy, and take your medicine.”** _

“Momm-? I don’t even know who you are or what’s happening ?”

_**“You are in a hospital dearie, and in the wrong wing by the looks of it…I can see you’re confused, and a little hungry…down the hall you will find a nurse on the graveyard shift. She is tending to some fool who thought guns were toys and played with them with other children. She should help you with that.”** _

“But what. Is. Happening ?”

_**“All will be revealed in due time my dear, but for now go to the nice nurse, and get your medicine…"** _

With that, the disoriented girl gets off the morgue bed, and walks out towards the door, looks up and down the hall, to see nothing. Even with the dim lights on, a darkness still covers the room. She figures it has more to do with a haze in her own vision than the actual lighting. The girl talks again, but it's pretty clear she can only talk in her head.

“What are you ? The devil ? God ?"

_**“Some may call me that, but the answer is not so easy. It will do you good not to question me.”** _

The girl feels a pull down the hall as she follows it, and in the back of her head, a chanting sound. As she staggers her way down a couple halls, she hears the chanting becoming louder and louder. She makes her way to a door, entering a room to see a woman tending to a man lying in a bed; or more accurately, the dark shapes of two people, with a red spot glowing in their respective chests - their beating hearts. The girl stands there awkwardly, as the nurse turns, see’s her, and panics. She hears the nurses muffled panicking voice as the girl advances towards them.

“Ahhh! Wha- what is-? You’re dead! You’re dea- No! Please! Don’t! Somebody! Help!”

The nurse begins whimpering and cowering in the corner as the girl backs her into. The girl looks back and forth between the nurse and the patient. The chanting overpowers any other sound in the room; save for the female voice which whispers in the girls ear.

_**“Feed, child."** _

And with that the girl gives into her instincts.

\----

She doesn't know how long it's been since she's come too. She remembers the blood all over the floor, and all over her. Her only instinct was the run through the cover of darkness.

She has reached the outskirts of the town she once lived in. She feels she cannot come back, she knows she is long dead to them. The only way she knows for sure she isn’t dreaming is the voice talking to her from the back of her head, and that red figure that occasionally appears or disappears past the corner of her eye.

She isn’t about the rule out the possibility that she’s gone crazy. Perhaps with luck this will turn out to be end result of a bad, bad drug trip. That and being dragged to a junkyard while she was barely conscious. And yet this voice and figure is showing her something, and has told her to seek out a house far beyond the towns borders. The more she walks, the more she feels like someone is guiding her, less like the presence is following her, but she is following it.

For the life of her, she cannot tell where she is now or where she is going. It's raining, foggy and heavily forest. It's pitch black, and she's pretty sure she's in AM hours. Of course she couldn't tell, because her watch was broken from being buried for seven months. She muses to herself that all she needs is the sound of drums and a tall man in a dark suit following her around, and this scenery would be picture perfect. What little she can see is a faint light a dozen yards away, seems someone set up a camp.

As she walks closer, she counts twelve tents, each one has a lamp on within.

_**“It’s funny…you must have gone your whole life, thinking of how…strange life is, haven’ t you ?”** _

“I didn’t expect this. I don’t even know what this is!”

_**“Yes, you do. This is but another example of the worlds oddities. In time, you will learn to be grateful for this new chance at life. There are things you will need to learn and do in order to show this gratitude."** _

“You mean what you made me do ?"

_**“You did nothing that you couldn’t have already. All I give is the means for you to do so and get away with it. Such is my price. And what is a mother to do than show her children the way.”** _

“My mother? No. I have had two mothers, and last I checked none of them was…whatever you are. You didn’t give me your name.”

**_“Come child, do you believe something as ancient, vast and terrible as me, could have one singular name ? If I had a birth name, I wouldn’t remember it. So many people give me different names and titles; The Morrigan, Le Fey, Blood Queen. What you call me matters little. What I am is the god on the other side of the coin. As you have died in darkness, it’s only fitting your new life is in darkness as well. Such is the lives of my children.”_ **

As the girl walks closer to the pitch tents she see's figures standing around the tents staring at her. They seem pretty unfazed by her presence and look as if they were expecting her. She first reasons that perhaps there are homeless people in the woods, which would be the most logical explanation, but that wouldn't explain everything else.

“Why me, though ? What did I do to-?"

_**“Are you asking if you are special ? No child, just lucky. I can always make another daughter, but I chose you. Walk by my guiding hand, and I will lead you too your truest desires."** _

“You don’t even know me-”

 _ **“Oh hush now, do you even know who you are ? You must have lived different lives in one, wore a different mask at the same ball. You are just as much an enigma as I. But the truth of the matter is you suffered in life, died in the darkness. Alone. Betrayed…Unloved. No one knows the real you, but I can show you the way.**_ "

The people at the tents walk up to her. As she gets a better look at them, she sees they are all wearing masks; medical masks, Halloween masks, anything that can cover or obscure their faces. The girl is too tired and confused to really be fazed by this.

“I…I can hardly remember anything. All I remember is that studio, a-and they were arguing. Mark and Nathan were-"

_**“ Were, exactly. What they did to you…what the world did to you can only be restored by the vastest, bloodiest retribution."** _

“…That’s not who I am…”

_**“Than who are you ?"** _

"My name...My name is Rachel Amber."

One of the masked men walk up to Rachel. She can make out a set of headlights turn on, and a blindfold be placed onto her head. She once again here's that ancient, voice in the back of her head.

_**"And who is Rachel Amber, but another lost girl ?"** _

\----

**November, 2013**

A disoriented Rachel is led up a driveway, blindfolded. At her side are two masked figures making conversation with her. She knows she was Rachel Amber, but now she is simply dead to the world. And yet, she’s walking, talking, and breathing, and has been so for weeks. Albeit with difficulty. During these weeks, she finds herself escorted by strangers across the country, who won’t let her see their faces, rarely feed her, and constantly sedate her  
.  
“So, you’re the new girl ? I must admit, you don’t look very impressive, but we must take what we can get here.”

“I didn’t ask for this. I’m still not 100% sure on what this is.” Rachel says, under her breath.

“Well then, it’s a good thing we found you when you dead. You’ve been in that hole for, what ? Seven months now? If people suddenly saw you walking around, things would get very concerning.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt them.” Rachel says, mainly to herself.

“No one really does, but we have to start somewhere. Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to make something of yourself.”

They stop and hear a door open. Rachel feels herself being ushered in. She can tell that the lights are being turned on as her blindfold is removed. To her curiosity, she is in a high end house, if she had to guess in the hills of Los Angeles. The place is spacious and looks as if someone already lives here.

Rachel looks around and notices she is in a heavy trench coat and a hat to obscure her features. Noticing a mirror on a wall beside her, Rachel sees she still very much fresh from the grave, and only now is her body really starting to recover. She doesn't look months dead as she did when she first awoke. Her skin is a pale grey, her eyes pale, and there’s dark blemishes and wrinkles here and there on her face. She looks at her hand, and see’s it’s wrinkled, her fingernails yellow. Looking back into the mirror, her hair is matted and wet. She’s quite literally a phantom of her former self.

It’s only then that Rachel notices her escorts; they simply resemble random street thugs; one is wearing a red balaclava; the other a face mask you’d find in a hospital.

Another voice speaks up; this one is male and has an Irish or English infliction in his voice; “I’m sure it’s quite a sight, isn’t it ? Can’t have you going around looking like that can’t we ? Although, I’m sure we have a couple of "dens” to spare on the other side of the tracks. But, I have seen those pictures; a pretty princess like you deserves a castle doesn’t she ?"

Rachel follows the voice to a living room. It’s not a standard living room to say the least, unless you’re accustomed to high end houses; Seventy inch flat screen TV; Three piece black leather couch. A fur rug, made from a white tiger.

There is a large window/slide in door, showing a massive pool. The exterior is surrounded by high fences and hedges.

The source of the male voice is a young man; anywhere from nineteen to twenty five years old. To simply put, he is dashing and the looks he’s giving off shows he knows it. A short, dirty blonde buzz-cut, five pack abs and a friendly looking face. His skin-tone was almost indiscernible; his skin was dark and pale enough that he could pass for a really light skinned African American or Hispanic, or at least mixed race. The man looks as if he just gotten out of the pool and has entered the house as he’s drying himself off with a towel. Clad in blue swim shorts, he puts on a black and white Hawaiian shirt and doesn’t bother buttoning it up.

"At the very least, the neighbors won’t be prying, so you should make a decent recovery soon enough. Your confusion is understandable. To keep things simple; you’re human life is over, has been for a while. Now begins a new era in your existence as you shed away your mortality in favor of-”

Rachel waves dismissively at him “I get it. I’m a vampire.” As she speaks. As it turns out, her whispery voice is mostly do to her larynx still repairing itself.

The man gives a friendly smile “Now what gave that away ?” The man dismissively at the two thugs. They bow their heads and walk out without saying a word, leaving Rachel alone with the man. “Too keep things…less formal, yes, you and I are a pair of undead leaches. And not just any kind, but hand picked by the good queen herself. Of course, you may refer to her as mother.”

Rachel shakes her head in disbelief “This is a whole lot to take in at once.”

“Then we’ll go an inch at a time, how’s that ?” He says, which gets a small, if unnerved laugh from Rachel “I’m just here to introduce you to the world you stepped into. If she picked you, you may have a great responsibility on your shoulders. All we wish is that you understand your place in this world.”

“We ? Who is we ?” Rachel asks, showing no actual fear of the man, even if she is uneasy.

The young man walks up to her, wearing a towel around his neck. “Mother’s other children. Her blood flows through all of our veins, and we all answer when she calls. We know she is the true queen of this world, with human tales that downplay her power; and so, we are the true heirs of this world, bastards or no. Perhaps you have read books of history, myth or legends of us. If only you knew who else carried the curse of undeath, or which vampires actually existed within history.”

Rachel laughs sarcastically to herself “Let me guess, one of them is Count Dracu-”

The man hastily covers her mouth, looking left and right in fear. He gives a harsh whisper in her ear “ _Don’t. Invoke. His name!_ ” He calms down and releases his grip on Rachel “Regardless of what you believe, just know our reach is far and wide. Others seek you too Miss…”

“Amber. Rachel Amber.” Rachel nods.

“Rachel Amber. Know this, we have a hand in quite a few organizations, many of whom are not aware of our presence. For years, we have been watching Arcadia Bay with great interest. We heard her whispers and it was only this October did she finally call.”

“About Arcadia Bay-” Rachel starts before the man raises his hand to silence her.

The sound of his phone goes of -as it turns out his ringtone is “ _Sunday Bloody Sunday_ ” by U2-, he briefly answers "They found our boys ? How much did they find out ?…Okay, wait for me at the beach, we’ll figure this out.” before turning back to Rachel. “I’m sure you have many questions. I will visit you tomorrow night, and will be available to answer them. In the meantime, I have a previous engagement to attend too. Until then, I suggest you catch up on your beauty sleep. You sure could use it.” The man hands her a set of keys as he walks past her towards the door “Your bedroom is downstairs. I hope you find it to your needs and liking. If not, we can talk about accommodations tomorrow. Until then little miss blue bird, enjoy your stay.”

Rachel looks around her, alone in what appears to be her new house. She walks over to the window and stares out at the night sky over Los Angeles. This is her new life, apparently.

\----

**January, 2020**

Rachel, now resembling a more lively version of herself is resting, naked and floating is relative peace in an isolation chamber. She feels something is in the room with her. Not just the room, but may very well be in the chamber as well. She hears a woman’s voice whispering to her. _That_ voice. The one she hasn’t heard in years.

“ _ **Rise and shine sleeping beauty.**_ ” It says to her.

Rachel awakes, as her chamber opens. As she climbs out, she reaches for a dark purple, silky bathrobe. She looks to the window and see the sun has disappeared over the horizon. The bedroom is filled with pictures and memorabilia she has collected over the years. On her nightstand sits an iphone on a iphone radio charger dock.

“What does my queen ask of me ?” Rachel replies. She walks up to her radio dock, and prepares to turn on her playlist.

Rachel has spent the past six years is what could loosely be described as “captivity” being thoroughly educated on her place in existence, and what her new purpose will be. She’s been told not to seek them out (“ _We will be the ones to call onto you_.”) Rachel has been waiting for this Queen to call upon her again for sometime. Another rule that was placed upon her was to not seek out anyone she knew in life. That’s not to say she wasn’t one who’d take advantage of the little freedom she had.

_**“The time has come. A new dawn is upon us, and now I call upon my daughters to usher in this world.”** _

Rachael nods as she walks to her iphone dock, picking a song to start her evening routine with. Usually her picks are _Wonderwall_ by Oasis; _Moments Before the Storm_ by Poets of the Fall; _Working 9 to 5_ by Dolly Parton; _Allstar_ by Smash Mouth; _Galway Girl_ by Ed Sheeran; _Lithium_ by Evansecence. It really depends on what mood she’s in. Rachel picks her song, takes a towel off a hanger on her door as she dries off her hair. Any other day, she'd lose herself to the music; lip-syncing, or just singing aloud, whilst dancing to the beat as she dressed up, but now she had to listen.

“And, is there a problem ?” Rachel asks, dropping her nightgown to the floor, picking out an outfit to wear for the night. Many of them range from classy; slutty; gothic to plain and wholesome. Rachel begins dressing up in her pick of outfit.

_**“As a matter of fact there is.”** _

The power cuts, as does the song, and a red shape forms behind her. A chill air fills the room and Rachel freezes in mortification.

_**“You’ve been seeing someone, haven’t you ? Someone you knew in your old life.”** _


	2. The Mother's Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will serves as our introduction to Reid, Ashbury, and McCullum and should give you an idea of what is to come in their present day arcs.
> 
> Really this is kind of an exposition piece, with a little more of what became of Reid and co, following the event of "Vampyr", such as Reid's initial search for a permanent cure for the Blood of Hate, what's become of The Ascalon Club and Guard on Piwen. This also serves as an introduction this fic's primary antagonistic faction "The Mother's Children"

_**December, 1922.** _

Blackwood Pines, Canadian/American border regions.

The nights never seem to have ended for Dr. Jonathan Reid. In part, this has to do with the lengthy snow storms, and his only source of light as a gaslamp and fireplace. In an isolated, heavily forested, mountain area, Reid waits at an abandoned trading post, having long since worn out its usefulness. This was where he was to do his field research, and were he has made a temporary living quarters.

Silently, he contemplates his circumstances.

It has been some time since he started experiments anew, seeking the replication to the Tears of Angels as William Marshall put it. For as long as the Blood Queen slumbers, for as long as the Blood of Hate exists, his work can never be done. And he knows the queen is merely sleeping, waiting, for her hatred lays dormant in the veins of his lover. Lady Elizabeth Ashbury has long since been freed from the effects of her tainted blood, but the disease is still dormant within her. As long as she lives, a new disaster lives within her. Traveling with Reid for years, the two seldom stayed in one place longer than a few weeks.

Isolating the disease was easier said than done, and to Reid's shame it was all he could do to in lieu of the Tears of Angels. The makings of this cure have been lost to time, and William Marshall regrettably taking those secrets to the grave. So in the meantime, his blood letting experiments are what he has to rely on, and took a rather unorthodox turn; that being he needed to find live test subjects.

Reid recalls the hearing;

\-----

**1920, the Ascalon Club, London, England**

Reid was called to a hearing, with those who in attendance aware of what's happening in London's underground. It occurred in the remains of the Ascalon headquarters; its survivors were gathered there along with high ranking members of the vampire community, and that of the Guard. To say things were intense was an understatement; the hunters refused to part with their weapons, and the vampires had to lay bare their own defenses. They only had the word of McCullum that no fighting would occur.

"...I must say, had our good Ser McCullum not vouched for this, we would have suspected a trap." 

"Yee have little faith. It's the fact your good leader agreed to these terms that we believe this to be a trap on your end!" An older vampire, Lord Everett, spoke out.

"Gentlemen!" Elizabeth Ashbury's voice spoke out over the other two "That is quite enough. We both are here for the same thing."

"Same thing? You realize what a truce entails ?" A younger hunter, a French student by the name of Jean Margot asks.

"The same thing we want is a permanent solution. The good Doctor and I have traveled half way across the world and back in search for a cure of the disease that nearly brought London to it's knees, and we yield little to no results." Ashbury answers "It was in our travels, Dr. Reid has uncovered something rather disturbing that we felt we ought to spread word of. It has been years since I have taken part in this community's affairs, but know I wouldn't call upon the Ascalon Club and The Guard unless times are dire."

"Dire ? The plague that has ravaged England has passed like the night, the disaster averted; the Red Queen you speak of vanquished. Her Skals and emissarys are still being hunted by our guard. What dire circumstances do you speak of, madam ?" Margot speaks again.

"I have it in good authority, that the disaster is far from over. In the past couple of years, Dr. Reid and I traveled through Europe and the America's. The farther we travel the more we see her lingering presence. We asked a connection of ours within your Guard, to look into these instances within England alone, and we found these." Ashbury holds in her hand a series of photographs.

"A connection within the Guard ?" another hunter asks, "You mean to say we have a spy, a traitor among us-"

Before he can finish his sentence, one Ser Geoffrey McCullum raises his hand to silence him "Let her speak."

Ashbury places the photographs onto a table at the center of the room. Reid also has his own set of photographs, which he hands out to the vampires and hunters. These are, for lack of a better word, crime scene photos. These are located in rural areas, country sides mostly: each of them display the aftermath of what appears to be a long forgotten pagan sacrificial ritual, each one marked with a symbol; a rose with pronounced thrones, drawn in blood upon each victims forehead, surrounding trees. Most of the victims range from children to teenagers, drained and mutilated in a perverse matter best left undescribed; it is this horrid that causes the newly made vampires and hunters turn away in horror.

"I am sure the elders among us are familiar with this mark, and this work ?" Reid asks, looking over the spectators.

"This is the work of the Mother's Children," Geoffrey McCullum nods "The Guard believed them to have died out in 1666 in the wake of the Great Hunt."

Everett speaks up "Not only were they hunted to extinction, but many parties took to burying any evidence of their existence we could find, save for the documents your Guard held. The atrocities they committed in the name of their old goddess is a horrid past we were to keep buried. It is only in recent centuries did word of even one of their members spread, having those records slipped through our fingers; this cannibal from Scotland, I believe."

"Vampire cultists," Ser Margot spat "It appears to me that you and your ilk are trying to confess to something. What weighs on your guilty conscience leaches ?"

"Afraid not," McCullum shakes his head "The Mothers Children mainly consisted of humans. Very few were actual vampires, and one of their practices was turning their followers as a rare reward."

McCullum takes a stand beside Reid and Ashbury to address his men "I led a squad into investigating these instances when word got to me. There are thirteen different cases across England alone, and hours ago I have received word of seven occurring in Wales. These are by and large the work of man, and while there is some vampire activity, whoever they are has eluded us. We have reason to believe, there is more than one vampire, and for one reason or another, they have an in depth knowledge of the work of the Mother's Children."

"And why, pray tell, would this concern the Ascalon Club ?" A younger vampire, Earl Gordon asks.

"Because they are responsible for nearly three past disasters, and if what I have been told is to be believed, have brought Europe to it's knees in Arthur's time." Ashbury answers, and Jonathan speaks up after her.

"Also, I have had to put down five disasters before they started. Three in the America's and two in Europe. There is only one vampire that can create disasters that I know of; I'm sure you're familiar with the one called The Morrigan, and what she brought about two years ago ?" Jonathan explains.

"Is there anything that can be done ?" Another hunter asks.

"The only thing that can be done." Margot answers before he addresses Jonathan "You say you and the good Lady Ashbury have been seeking a cure for this spreading disease, that you have found a patient zero so to speak? The source of the disease."

"What is is you're getting at ?" Jonathan asks suspiciously.

"It seems the permanent solution is at your doorstep, Reid. It's simply a matter of removing said problem. Kill the disease at it's source. Without it's roots the disease can't spread, can't it, doctor ? And perhaps you can use their blood too make a vacci-"

Jonathan raises his hand to dismiss Margot "You haven't the slightest recollection of how this disease or vaccines work, do you ? Besides my research concluding that the Blood of Hate isn't a virus as we know it, if we take to butchering people to make cure's, we may as well go back to using actual leeches." He speaks truthfully, but not the full truth that their hostess is patient zero. Or it least, one of said patients.

"I know disease, Dr. Reid." Margot explains "I was lucky enough to survive where a wasting sickness claimed my father and brother. Do not play me for a fool."

"And even if we are to take your solution, good sir, there are still numerous vampires already infected by the blood. An estimated dozen at the very least." Jonathan further explains.

"And what is it you propose, vampire ?" Margot sneers.

"What he proposes, is that we are to put our resources together in fighting this disaster before it grows beyond our control." Ashbury says before addressing the others "As I have said, I wouldn't have called both parties here unless it was urgent, and I would say that that the narrow aversion of five different disasters is urgency enough."

"What are we to do ?" Everett asks "I am not sure if you're aware, but Ascalon Club hasn't been on the same standing it was following Redgrave's exile. The scandal Myrdinn exposed upon us was a nearly crippling blow."

"Which is why I have an added proposal." Ashbury starts "As the only living daughter of William Marshall, I have been named an heir in his final will, in the event no son of him lives still. With Redgrave not only a false progeny, and has since been driven away by Myrdinn, and as Marshall's heir, his current lands, wealth and authority have been granted to me-"

"Are you proposing yourself, to bring Ascalon back to it's old glory ?" Everett asks skeptically.

"No, I am proposing that we can bring your club into a new era, and together we can maintain the stability of Great Britain, and if it comes to it, the world. In Dr. Reid's research, we have found the United Kingdoms are far from the only place the Morrigan's emissary's have reached."

"Which is why we must put our organizations together, and draw in what we can," Reid states "With enough influence, we can find the disasters were they take root. We can put a stop to them before they can start, and even now their threat has grown beyond my ability or anyone's to control alone."

"And what of us ?" Margot asks "Who here among the guard, can vouch for them ?"

"I can," McCullum speaks up "You've all seen the evidence, some of you here have also looked into the murders - the sacrifice of children, to bring about calamity, is not something we can ignore. I wouldn't propose such an alliance myself on a good day, no matter how temporary. For the time being, it is clear there is something greater at hand then vampires fighting man."

Margot scoffs "And I take it we are to ignore your ilk who prey upon the innocent ?"

"They've agreed to our terms," McCullum says "We expect any vampire who throws in their lot with Ashbury to follow suit."

"Our ? You mean yours," Margot scoffs "I threw in my lot with the Guard to protect my people from your kind. And by the looks of things, it seems not even your kind would prefer this alliance you propose."

"As much as I hate to agree with one of the Guard, he does have a point." Everett starts "For someone with such wide eyed ideals, those same ideals blind you. We cannot simply uproot centuries of tradition for the sake of some social experiment of yours. Society's standards may change, but Ascalon cannot."

"I'm sure there are slave owners who said the same." Gordon notes, clearly not agreeing with the elder vampire.

"This isn't about a social movement, this is about doing what is right; saving as much lives as possible. About preventing disaster, the same kind many of you here have witnessed. Something greater, more terrible is at our doorstep." Reid starts "We can simply try to fight the disasters as they come, but what will that accomplish ? It will be more of the same, and so far . What we are offering, is a permanent solution."

"For a man of science, you seem ignorant to the truth; there is only one real permanent solution." Margot remarks.

"I say we put it to a vote," speaks Gordan, as all eyes in the room are now on him "Clearly there must be some visionaries among us, and surely we must keep some air of a civil discussion. Who among us will accept this proposal, and who among us will reject it ?"

\-----  
As one can imagine, an attempt to unite two warring groups, for even temporary or pragmatic reasons, would only leave both groups further divided.

Quite a few of the Ascalon club threw in their lot for Ashbury, recognizing her as an heir and daughter of Sir William Marshall. Her detractors were few and held steadfast to their traditions. Likewise, the Guard had some who reluctantly threw their vote at McCullum's word; one wonders if they would vouch for him all the same if they knew Jonathan turned him.

Turning McCullum had it's benefits in the long run, providing Jonathan and Ashbury a friend ("pragmatic acquaintance" McCullum vehemently insists) on the inside. Having developed an understanding, Reid and Ashbury developed a hidden partnership with McCullum, which was a vital source of information, and in turn McCullum learned more of vampire history and was able to reach out to the less fanatical of hunters. While he was able to turn the less fanatical hunters to Reid and Ashbury's cause, the same could not be said for those who were in the guard for so long.

As it was, that meeting did not end in violence, and was left with disgruntled disagreements. Both Ascalon and the Guard did what could be done in tracking potential disasters and the work of The Mother's Children, but not together - save for those who defected to Asbury and McCullum's faction's. True to McCullum's claims, these cultists mostly consisted of humans and committed blood sacrifices to appease their queen, in what was mistaken for "Satanic Sexual Homicides" for lack of a better word. But the search for the vampire who was guiding them, yields no results.

Over the past two years, three more disasters were averted, but the work of the Mother's Children was contentiously sighted; reported not just in the United Kingdoms, but Spain, Venice, Rome, India, China, and Israel. For the past seven months, there were no reported sacrificial murders. On top of that, the Ascalon club dissolved due to a collapse in influence. The new club, founded by Ashbury, was relocated in the America's for Ashbury's protection after four attempts on her life, believed to be by members of the former club. For the Guard, many who threw their lot in with McCullum's faction were found slain; none were the work of vampires, or the Mother's Children. After holding down the fort for two years, McCullum also disappeared; thought dead by the public, but Reid and Ashbury knew better.

For now, Reid's work in searching a cure continues.

Unlike, Swansea, who was kept "an permanent guest" in Ashbury's living quarters, Reid finds himself doing field research. Swansea was kept alive for the purposes of seeking a permanent cure for the Blood of Hate - a "penance" that was forced upon him months after he turned. However, the Tears of Angels, as its called, was not something that could be found so easily. Marshall's own search for the cure is among many instances of a burned and buried past, and even so it was only a partial cure. Which is why Reid has taken to preforming experiments, and how he ended up working in the forests of Blackwood Pines.

\-----  
_**December 1922**_

For the most part, Reid's operations were to take a sample of the infected blood from the vampires captured over the years, and Ashbury's cured blood; as well as test subjects to observe the affects of both, but there is complications, even with the fact that her blood is technically not cured, and so it would put patients at risk. Only a fool would risk spreading the Blood of Hate to the sake of scientific progress (a sentiment usually said within Swansea's earshot), which is why Reid had an aversion to preforming such experiments on humans (nor animals at Ashbury's insistence). Which is why McCullum's word eventually reached him, he learned of a third option.

McCullum told Reid that during his travels he ended up in Blackwood Pines; a forested area that had no human residents since 1914, despite once having a small farming community in it's county. By McCullum's own account of his ventures there, something else has taken hold of these forests, a curse worse than that of the vampire; The Wendigo - The Spirit of Lonley Places - which were now the reason the pines had no human inhabitants; a fearsome spirit that is a manifestation of the selfishness and savagery that lays dormant in all people. This provided Reid something else to test his subjects on, as he set up a makeshift lab and living quarters in what was once a trading post for the past couple of weeks; this being in spite of warning by Elder Maxwell Dibikad at the local reservation - the one they went to for consulting.

_"I would think a man of your intelligence would know not to trifle with thing such as this; I spent the last seven years telling my family and community to avoid that place like the plague. We aren't even allowed to use their names." The Elder would say._

_"I appreciate your concern, Good Elder, but you must understand that my line of work requires trifling with things. I apologize if I offend you, but for better or worse, facing such spirits has become my life." Jonathan would insist "I am only here because my research requires me not to bring harm to to man or animal. Not for these experiments."_

_"How noble," Dibikad says with an air of sarcasm "But if you must take your work to that mountain, know this; the only difference between the men you hope to spare and the spirit of lonley places, is a pretty slim one. It is a darkness that can emerge from within should should a man give into it; it is no coincidence they awoke when your settlers first colonized. From what you tell me Dr. Reid, it is a struggle you yourself are very familiar with. Which is why I am utterly baffled that you would willingly seek them out."_

_"It is as you say; it is a struggle I am very familiar with." Jonathan nods "From where I stand this is more of the same demons._

_"If you insist on fighting this battle Dr. Reid, there is little more I can do for you...but know this; those who spend there lives seeking evil, especially to fight it, that same evil will follow you; till the end of your life or the end of this world. Whichever comes first."_

Reid is pulled from his train of thought to see McCullum himself enter his living quarters, having been a travel companion of his for these ventures, and something of a lab assistant.

"Any news ?" Reid asks.

"I've had to put one down in a farming house." McCullum answers, taking a seat at Reid's table, not sounding particularly proud of what he did.

"Need I remind you that we are only to kill as a last resor-" Reid starts before McCullum stops him.

"It was a _child_ , Reid." McCullum sighs before taking out a flask and swigging it down "Or it had to have turned from one. I would say death was a preferable option to what's been inflicted on the others."

They are interrupted by a shriek from under the floorboards.

"Looks like it finally woke up."

Reid and McCullum head down towards the trading posts basement to observe their latest subject. In the past weeks alone, Reid and McCullum's work involved tracking these creatures in the woods and the former homes of the people who once lived here. This would usually lead to a fight, and sometimes lead to them being put down. Five times they were lucky enough to trap one, and keep it subdued. It was simply a matter of preforming the blood letting experiments on both the cursed and cured blood.  
Needless to say the results varied.

The first two subjects had no noticeable physical change upon being exposed to the Blood of Hate. The blood proven addictive to the subject. No noticeable change occurred when the cured blood was administrated with the same dosage. They were put down after three days of no results.

The third one was given a large dose of the blood. As if it were possible for it to become something more monstrous, it surely has. It immediately broke free from it's restraints and escaped the "lab". After a night of chasing it down, and following a trail of mutilated animal carcasses (that notably, it didn't bother eating), it was soon cornered and killed as it was making it's way towards a small town.

Fourth one was given the infected blood, and immediately dosed with Ashbury's blood at a larger dose. This subject began to physically transform, before it collapsed. It spent hours, vomiting and choking on it's own blood, before it stilled. It's body quickly desiccated and decayed into nothing.

The fifth and final one was bound before them. This one was administrated the same small doses of infected and cured blood over the course of a few days. There was no visible results but the subject was otherwise docile and would often sleep.

Reid and McCullum observed the creature sit and crawl around it's bindings. It didn't make any noise and would simply glance at the two vampires.

"I find them more disturbing when they're silent." Reid notes, McCullum nods in agreement. Reid is busy writing up the results in his sketch book.

"What say you, good doctor ?" McCullum crouches down at eye level at the subject.

"Only one way to find out." Reid responds, taking a large needle from their makeshift operating table. "We'll send a sample to Swanea's laboratory, administrate it to those already infected. If these are the results we're loo-" Reid is interrupted by a loud knocking on the door.

"By the stars!" A voice from outside shouts "Do you not know what's out here ?"

Upon hearing the voice, Reid and McCullum glanced at each other, and quickly made their way up the stares.

When they open the door, they find a man near frozen to the bone, and dressed in a thick long coat and hat that obscured his face.

"Thank the heavens above!" The man says, nearly collapsing into the two "You have little idea of what horrors I have witnessed out there!"

"I'm sure we have some idea," Reid snarks as he ushers the man in.

The man walks up to the still roaring fireplace to warm up "I'm afraid I can't stay too long, there are others that need help on the mounatin!" Now that the man could speak coherently, he had an accent to him, indicating an British or Irish nationality. He had shoulder length dirty blond hair and a five o'lock shadow to match. He was a rather good looking young man, estimated to be in his early to mid twenties, but his race was indiscernible, a dark pale for lack of a better word. He could almost pass a light skinned black man, or hispanic, or even a mixed race.

"What brings you out here ? What business could you possibly ha-" McCullum starts.

"My church- my church congregation," the man starts "You wouldn't understand."

"We can try," Reid starts, sounding concern.

Reid and McCullum have the man sit down and listen to his story.

"There's not much to tell really. My name is Morgan, there's nothing really special to say of me. A couple of weeks ago, our church had their usual gathering. We are a small, closely nit community you see. We look out for each other, and outsiders. So you can imagine our shock and curiosity, when a woman shown up at our church."

"This shocked you ?"

Morgan shakes his head "Not so much the presence of a woman, but rather she was naked, swimming in the churches frozen pond, and was generally unfazed by the cold."  
McCullum and Reid glance at each other "That...does sound rather shocking and curious when you put it that way."

"At the time," Morgan continues "We didn't make as big a deal of it. We are not a superstitious lot after all. This ain't the dark ages. We took her in, fed her, clothed her, warmed her up, and she spoke before our congregation. She was otherwise okay, but cold and hollow inside. It was like something died within her, and never awoke."

Reid and McCullum knew what was coming; this woman was a vampire, and for one reason or another is responsible for something that happened to a church congregation.

"She spoke of her son, and how she'd lost him. The law and some of our clergy men offered aid and to find her son. They asked her where she last saw him. They didn't expect to find him alive, but the woman insists she was at a camp upon the mountains." Morgan shook his head "She would claim that she could hear god calling, and to be honest, we didn't think much of it. By the time the search part began, the snowstorm engulfed the area. We left him to his fate."

Morgan pulls out a flask from his coat and drinks it down quickly, but not quickly enough that the two vampires didn't notice the scent of blood. Morgan continues "Our children were more sympathetic, and many of them snuck out in the dead of night, and ventured into these woods."

"You mean to tell me there are children lost here ?" Reid gets up from his seat, ready and willing to do something, so long as there were civilians in danger of his operations.

"Do you know were they are ?" McCullum adds.

"Aye, I do. With their own children lost, and the woman missing, mothers and fathers alike followed suit. It was easy to find them. We just had to follow the tracks, and we could tell by a slightly larger set of bare feet, that she took them." Morgan continues "We followed them up the peak, and we found the camp. And we found... _them_."

"The children ?" Reid asks hesitantly.

"The creatures...vampires. The red skins here call them winnibagos, something or other, but I guess they refer to the same thing really. They made camp here, and preformed all manner of atrocities to-" Morgan starts before he pauses "...no, there was three bloodsuckers as far as I could tell. The rest seemed normal, but the things they did with our women, our children...anyone they didn't kill immediately, was bound in a cave. Poked and prodded like were patients at an operating table."

Reid stops him before he continues "You escaped ?"

"Earlier tonight," Morgan nods "They brought forth a fourteen year old girl, and- an-"

"You mean to say they are still alive ?" McCullum asks.

"Seven of us. I was a coward, my chains broke and rather than help the others, I alone fled. When they cornered me, I jumped from a cliff."

McCullum and Reid exchange a look, and both understood the same thing; a hunters duty calls, and the duty of a champion of Myrddin calls. They were a little suspicious of the scent of blood coming from Morgan's flask, so of course he would need an eye kept on. But what if he's saying is true, the Mother's Children have reached Blackwood Pines, and are holding innocent captives. On top of that, Morgan comes off as a little unemotional, but this could be chalked up to shell shock or trauma. But at times, it was as if he prepared the words he'd use.

"Take us there." McCcullum says "You know the way, correct ? We can help you and your people."

"Are you sure you two are up for it ?" Morgan asks "Have you not heard a word I said of va-"

Reid puts his hands on Morgan's shoulders "I can assure you, we have the experience, and the resources to dealing with such things. But we need you to lead us there!"  
"Yes," Morgan nods "Yes, very well. I'll have you gather your things, and we'll be on our way."

Gather their things they did. Their weapons in hand, Reid had the basement door locked, to make sure their docile test subject didn't cause any trouble. It wasn't like it was going anywhere, but better safe than sorry.

Weapons and equipment in hand, Reid and McCullum give a final glance to one another, as Morgan led them towards the mountains in the dead of night. Silently, the two vampires agreed that if he tries anything with them, they will try something with him.

Unbeknownst to either of them, a raven watches them on before flying down towards the trading posts window. It pecks at the windows for several minutes before it breaks through. The raven flies towards Reid's bedroom, and uses it's beak to open a drawer. It takes a vial in it's beck, which just so happens to contained the cursed Blood of Hate. Vial in beak, it takes flight again and lands at the basement door. Setting aside the vial, it pecks around the bottom of the door, rousing the attention of the subject beneath the floor.

Finding a particularly soft spot at the door, it starts to peck again, spending minutes on end digging and and eventually clawing it's way through the small space it made on the door. Once again taking the vial, the bird wiggles through the hole it made, it flies around the makeshift laboratory. When it pearches on the operating table, it glances at the captive subject for a moment before it hops onto the ground, places the vial on the floor and rolls it to the subject.

The seemingly docile creature reaches for the viral, and looks at the addictive substance within. While it was placated by the douses of the cured blood, a vaccine it was not, and now it was left to it's basic instincts.

Breaking the vial in it's hand, it begins rapidly licking up the cursed blood. The raven looks on, waiting for something to change in the creature.  
\-----

_ **October, 2013, Oregon.** _

Jonathan Reid once again awakens in the dark. It's been like this for years now, and still he is working on the means of escape; he and three others. He has been a prisoner here for sometime, and still knows not where he is. In those years, he's never heard word of Lady Ashbury, McCullum, Swansea or any else in his circle.

He knows he's in a camp of sorts. A camp that closed in the 1950's due to an incident involving two counselors and missing campers. There were plans to re-outfit as a prison camp in the 70's that didn't fall through. Not that it kept his the "American Guard" as they call themselves from making use of it.

No longer content with simply hunting and killing vampires, or other supernaturals, or even protecting people; the now Americanized, modernized faction of the old Guard of Priwen has taken to secretly policing vampires, and supernatural sympathizers. At least those who have use for them. As it so happens, Reid had his uses, and for the past six years, has been rather stubborn to their interrogations. Day in, day out, his jailers would starve him, beat him, isolate him for weeks on end; anything to get him to spill some secrets of his. Particularly the chemical weapons he was involved with during the second World War.

But no matter what, he never budged or broke. He tried talking sense into them, but that did little good. In fact, he was planning something from underneath them. For months, he was working on plans for another inmate, Claude, who claims to know a friend of his from the outside, and secretly they would work on a plan to escape. Claude was human, and spent most of his time in a gym yard, claims he got in for the murder of six guards...although he claimed that was a set up to get him in here.

While Jonathan never revived word from the outside, his confidant received messages all the time from those on the outside. There are plans to move Reid upstate if this camp is unable to extract info out of him, were he would be forced to work with the higher ups, so far the plan was to hold on for the next three days, which means putting up with more "interrogations" until the time of transfer.

It's been two days since he got the message, but this last day, Reid was given something that may put a damper in his old plan, and now had to come up with something else and quick. He's not exactly in fighting form, he's severally blood starved, among other things, and this was the worst possible news he could have received at the worst possible time, and something that puts his current objective in a tailspin.

"They have Mary, Doctor Reid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next should be the Sean Diaz chapters. This may take longer, since I am also writing "Love's Sacrifices" alongside this story.  
> Another reason why Sean's introduction should take longer, is because it is were I will start implementing "Route A" and "Route B" chapters.
> 
> Chapters exclusive to "Route A" follow "Sacrifice Aracdia Bay/Parting Ways" the ending of LiS and LiS 2. Likewise, "Route B" are exclusive to the "Sacrifice Chloe/Redemption" ending.


	3. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Life Is Strange series, Until Dawn, Vampyr, Tell Me Why, and other gaming properties referenced within this work.
> 
> I am not good at writing fight scenes, so I ended up skimming through the train escape I had planned for Reid. In any case, this chapter is gonna give an idea of what Reid has been doing over the century. And what Asbury set up.
> 
> Trigger and content warning: This chapter contains attempted sexual assault.
> 
> I originally wanted to write Sean's introduction for "Route A" (Parting Ways/Sacrifice Arcadia Bay) for this chapter, but I have yet to finish working "Route B" (Sacrifice Chloe/Redemption), and I am planning to put them back to back.
> 
> I will also note that while I may add references or easter eggs to other video games, they are not part of the crossover roster like "Until Dawn" is, since at least "Until Dawn's" lore is plot relevant this story. The rest are at most cameos.
> 
> Finally, I am refraining from using chapter notes until I can figure out how to fix the end notes.

**October 2013**

To say the last week were a massive headache was an understatement.

The train escape didn't exactly go off without a hitch; on account of seventy dead Guardsmen who were put down in the escape attempt, and the ensuing fight left the former Dr. Jonathan Reid bedridden. At the very least the bodies found were not killed at the hands of a vampire. It was the day before the transfer when his confidant Claude was the first to break out of the prison camp and disappear. The Guard didn't think he was worth the resources to chase down, after all he was only one man.

When Reid was put on the train, he was placed in a secluded room in a box car and couldn't tell where he was or were he was going when he felt the train collide with something which he soon found out was another train.

Reid found himself submerged in a river, just barely managing to break free from his box car and swim his way to a river bank. Surrounding him was what could be only described as raining fire; he looked up to see two locomotives reduced to burning wrecks as they've collided into each other on a bridge above.

That and a rising sun.

What followed was a gunfight Reid himself didn't take part in, but one were he witnessed Claude take part in; he's been told of how a decade or so ago, Claude was involved with gang wars in the Mob, Yakuza and Cartels, and clearly Claude was showing off his prowess from those days.

Reid quickly passed out from exhaustion, and by the time he woke up he was in a bed. It was the most comfortable he's been in years, and really he could rest for days, but he couldn't relax or actually sleep. He knew as much this was a guest room; there was no pictures on the walls, nor windows and everything was either painted white or blue; and the interior was a nostalgic design from his childhood in the Victorian Era. He didn't know how much time passed before someone checked on him.

She was a sight for sore eyes, and one that he hasn't seen since 2008; the sight of Elizabeth Ashbury in a three piece business suit isn't one he's used to, but it's a welcome sight. He would later find out she was the watching over him for the past week.

Elizabeth didn't say anything, as nether she or Jonathan could find the words; instead Elizabeth approached his bedside, rolled up one of her sleeves and had Jonathan bite down into her wrist and feed to get back his lost strength.

By the time Jonathan was finished, he very nearly drained her into unconsciousness, before he realized she was fading "Sorry, it's been a while." Elizabeth smiles

"It's quite alright, it's been a while for me too."

The two share a soft laugh before Jonathan addresses the issue at hand "I take it you were the one who arranged-"

"Yes," Elizabeth answers "I spent years and millions worth of resources in finding were you were held. Most of that time was spent establishing connections; our mutual friend Claude was pretty resourceful when it came to finding a way for you to escape."

"And a reckless one," Jonathan starts again "Does he know not how much attention that train crash will-?"

"They'll never suspect you; the men killed were done so either in the crash or by gunfire. We placed a burnt body to act as your decoy, and our contact himself has disappeared, now that he's been paid for his services. They won't even believe it was the work of a single gunman"

Jonathan couldn't help but give a bemused chuckle "When have you become so ruthless ?"

Elizabeth sits onto the bed and presses her forehead to Jonathan's "You were there, remember ? Besides, if you knew what this so called Nationalized Guard have been up too...you'd know that ruthlessness' is a necessity." Elizabeth gives Jonathan a kiss on the forehead before she stands up to take her leave "We will speak more when you get your barings."

"I've been collecting my thoughts long enough." Jonathan sighs "As of now, all I need is a proper meal, and a real shower."

Elizabeth smirks and takes Reid by the hand "Come then...I shall see to your needs, good doctor."

For over the next three and a half hours, and after a quick tour, Jonathan would find this residence is a large chalet style mansion, on a heavily guarded lakeshore property. He wasn't exactly familiar with this area though. Jonathan was now dressed in what clothes were available for him at the time; a pair of slacks, a wife beater, loafers, and a black hoody.

The shower was revigorating and the meal was filling. For the first time in a few years he felt as healthy as a horse and clear in the head. The two spent the past few hours making up for what lost time they could, and catching up on personal matters. Now, it was time to talk business. Ashbury had him sit on a couch in her study, and it was looking out the window did he take in the view.

"Where are we ?" Was the first thing he asks.

"Delos Crossing, or at least the county." Elizabeth answers "Quite possibly the safest place for us. Neither the guard has jurisdiction here, nor can my detractors reach me without drawing attention. I figured you could use a place outside the hustle and bustle of the city. We never really go into town anyways, except when we need supplies. We keep out of their hair, they keep out of ours."

"Ours ?"

"You didn't think I live out here on my own, did you ? That I never bring in guests ?"

As if on cue, another door opens in this room, as a handful men and women, young and old, all dressed in attire fitting of an upper class businessmen or politicians - jarringly making Jonathan's current getup stand out. They took their respective seats within the study, all facing a desk Elizabeth set up.

Out of them, Reid recognized as the former Earl, Glen Gordan, whom he hasn't seen in what had to be fifteen years. Jonathan recognized him as one of the first of the Escalon club to throw in his lot with Elizabeth's faction as it started to grow. Upon this recognition, Gordan was the first to speak "Ah yes, the good Doctor is once again among his peers."

Jonathan got up from his couch to shake the former Earl's hand "Good evening, Gordan. I how many years has it been ?"

"Long enough to believe that Anthony Marcos Gordan is long deceased, and no suspicions when his long lost cousin Goodwin steps in to resurrect the family business. I take it you lack familiarity with Ashbury's newest associates ?"

There was Kara Stanley, the seemingly college aged daughter of a big wig yuppie, who has been underestimated her whole life by the men of her family for her ambitions, and thought to have died in a drug overdose back in 2004. Now she secretly runs Miami's underground as a proxy to Elizabeth Ashbury, and her younger brother Paul as her own puppet.

Thomas Callon and his brother Lucas, illegitimate sons of a high ranking member of the Vatican, who upon their transformation in 1997 following a bungled attempt on their families, have gained a hidden influence within the Vatican City. They use this influence to track down and investigate any and all instances of the Mother's Children.

A husband and wife couple, Julius and Damora Duncan, who since the 60's have their hands in the politics of New York, Washington and Texas. While they generally don't influence the politicians, they have the power to gather and give out what information they can to Elizabeth.

"Is this all the turnout for tonight ?" Elizabeth asks.

"This is all we could find. You understand that New Ascalon cannot simply uproot all it's members for a single-" Ms. Stanley starts.

"Of course," Elizabeth sighs "I take they too are preparing for the worse."

"If what the Callon brothers say is true, it is better to be safe than sorry. Besides, the Guard has grown considerably and if this many vampires came together in one country, in one spot at once, we'd be drawing too much attention." Gordan explains, before turning to Reid "You're going to want to hear this Reid, it was good that Ms. Ashbury was able to spring you when she did."

"And what news is this ?" Jonathan asks.

"As you may recall, I have previously ordered the Escalon to keep an eye out for sightings of Myrddin Wilt. For the longest time, he has not appeared to any other vampire as far as we can recall." Asbury starts.

"I take that has changed." Jonathan nods "And I take it there is another disaster that has eluded us as well."

"Disasters," Ashbury corrects him "There has been numerous sightings of a being matching Myrddin's description, albeit within dreams, and a few accounts of people dreaming of a male and female voice speaking to them."

"So...what your saying is that we are taking dreams as sightings ?" Jonathan remarks skeptically.

"When we are investigating beings that do not exist within our physical realm, it's best to try out methods used by supposed ghost hunters. Especially when there is a consistent pattern of sightings." Ashbury took out a series of documents handing them out to each other the vampires in the room, detailing the sightings and what connects them; it's at first is started off small, young children, barley old enough to speak, in hospitals within the Oregon area. They would claim to see a red figure within their dreams or waking moments, sometimes it was masculine, other times it was feminine. Some thought they were images of the devil, and a few even drew what they've seen; crude as they were they matched the image of Myrddin, and his mother.

After this rash of sightings, the second rash was brought about by young women, many of them have been admitted to a hospital as well, even going forward to the police. These women claim to have been kidnapped from parties, and bars across the area, otherwise matching similar sightings to that the children in hospitals had. Unlike the children, the feminine figure was more prominent than the male figure. Much like the children's sightings, they were otherwise dismissed as dreams and no charges were brought forward due to no signs of sexual assault.

"Do you see the Pattern, Dr. Reid ?" Gordan asks.

"Of course," Jonathan nods "But this is hardly my area of expertise."

"You are the champion of Myrddin, and as far as we can tell, no other lives. Your research, before your capture, was to seek out and find a way to end the disasters before they start. This is when you come into this." One of the Callon brothers, Lucas says before snapping a finger to Thomas. In the midst of this discussion, Thomas has been setting up a projector, and screen on the far end of the study, explaining as he turns on the projector.

"Dr. Reid, is it true that in all these decades, you never found a significant cure for the Blood of Hate ?"

Jonathan hesitates a moment before he answers "That is correct." He pretends not to notice the look Elizabeth is giving him.

"The papers Lady Ashbury provided us, you wrote during the second great war, you claim to be on the verge of a breakthrough." Thomas Callon addresses him again.

"The ultimate result wasn't..." Jonathan notices Elizabeth is looking at him again "It wasn't satisfactory..." He was at least being partially honest with that one.

"Understandable. From what we have read up on, you were looking in the wrong places." At the point the slideshow begins. The first slide depicts a photograph taken in 1945, showing a child of the age of seven in a hospital bed - he is strapped to the bed, wearing only a gown. He looks alive, but looks as if he should be dead.

"We knew you and your defunct connections in the guard, have been relentlessly tracking instances of disasters and infections across Europe. This poor lad was a patient of yours for years."

Jonathan looks away aghast "You do not need to remind me." 

"Of course, but what you may need reminded of is the name he kept saying." Lucas replies.

"Mor Fay, Mor Fay, Mor Fay," Thomas recites "You were far from the only person who had your eyes on that village. Neighbors of Vatican City have the cities attention."

"Yes, the archbishops have been watching my progress, but as far as I let them knew, that village was dying of a wasting disease."

"Do you really believe us ignorant, Dr. Reid ? We knew secrets you didn't even consider." The next few slides depict what could easily be mistaken for prisoners and victims of war camps, all gathered in a quarantined village.

"While you were looking for a solution by medicine, we were searching for a convict."

Jonathan nods "Yes, the disaster of that village, Dolores Valisari. As I recall she was only nine." He then shakes his head as terrible memories came flooding back "She died the day I reached that village. By then the situation was out of control, the most I could do was continue my research!"

"On the contrary, the outbreak was very much being controlled."

The next photograph depicts a drawing; it was of a knight, in dark armor, standing in a field of bodies, and resting his chin on the Handel of a long sword. Behind him, three other knights rode on horseback, and above him was a flock of crows.

Or simply put, H.J Ford's 1902 illustration "Ser Mordred.

"What you did not know, the Mother's Children never stopped in the 20's. And as our church revered the son of our Lord, they have only their goddesses favorite son as their mediator with her."

At this point, the Callon brothers had the floor "For the uninitiated among us, The Mother's Children is a so-called religious order, dabbling in the dark worship of whom they call The Morrigan." Lucas introduces.

"Or as we have come to know her, The Red Queen, Blood Queen. They call her different things, but many of them are variations of mother. Despite their affiliation with vampires and connection to Disasters, very few members are vampires themselves. They appear, disappear over the centuries, but a constant with them is their claims of leadership by one Mordred of Fay. Many claim, he still walks and lives into this very day, but until recently, we believed them to be murky claims. An Urban Legend, within an Urban Legend. The only thing we know for sure are the stories saying that Mordred was the reason they brought Europe to its knees in Arthur's time." Thomas explains, nodding towards Ashbury to speak her piece once more.

Finally, Ashbury spoke up "I have been collaborating with the Callon's in recent years. Over the past five years we have discovered The Mother's Children had connections within arms, sex and drug trafficking rings. Over the past seven months, we have arrested and interrogated a few key members, each one claiming they were working under the direction of Mordred himself. At the time we didn't seriously consider that Mordred lived among us, but we had two witnesses who were ready and willing to testify to have met Mordred himself. By the time we reached one of them, he was found bisected and burnt. The second remains in our custody. This is were the alleged sightings of Myrddin Wilt come in."

The next few slides show different locations across Oregon, and mug shots of people arrested in these areas; pimps, drug dealers, high level escorts, low level prostitutes. Transcripts of interrogations by Ashbury's agents, or Ashbury herself. A few of them mentioned being called by a woman's frequently in their dreams to a certain area. They wouldn't consider them any more than dreams had they not been consistently similar.

"Are these members of The Mother's Children ?" Jonathan asks.

"Not as far as they know. A few of them we could confirm, but the rest look unfamiliar with them. They did speak of a woman's voice speaking to them, like she was calling them, luring them. But as far as they knew, they were only dreams. What they did not know, was that each arrest followed a line towards this township." Ashbury flips to another slide.

It was a shot of Arcadia Bay, taken days prior from the viewpoint of an airplane.

"And on top of that, we have had a few...incidents in that town that have seem to confirmed our suspicions. We have word from our second witness we have on the inside that confirms, that The Blood Queen has picked her newest champion, and a newborn vampire was taken from Arcadia Bay, just days ago. We do not know where too."

Jonathan double takes at the news "Do we at least know who she is ?"

"Our witness doesn't seem to know, but she has claimed to have met Mordred himself, several times; says he's currently been hiding out in the slums and ghettos of the East Los Angeles, under a civilian identity, and until we know for sure, our contact is to stay here in our protection." Ashbury explains.

"She's here ?" He asks, as yet another vampire enters the room, with Jonathan's back turned to her.

"As a matter of fact, she is, my dear brother." The voice of Mary Reid speaks out.

\----

**Los Angeles, February, 2014**

Rachel Amber awoke in her bed, as usual from another nightmare.

Or daymare as it were.

She wasn't quite used to sleeping alone. In fact she wasn't used to living alone. She thought that staying in LA would be different for her. That it would present more opportunities for her, but this wasn't exactly a life.

Come to think of it, this wasn't exactly life either; more like "Unlife" Rachel snickered to herself. She wondered if internal monologue was always this annoying.

Rachel looks to her clock - 7:47 PM. The sounds about right.

Throwing on whatever clothes were available, made her way to the kitchen, and brewed herself some coffee. Mixed in of course with her monthly shipment from those keeping an eye on her.

Rachel rolled her eyes and groaned "That same. Goddamn. Joke!" The thought of it annoys her. Usually it was some goofball, delivering her boxes of bloodbags every month, and every time, he'd make a quirky joke about "That time of the month." Really, she felt a strong urge to just rip off the delivery man's head an indulge himself on his his blood. But as far as Rachel could tell, she wasn't that heartless.

Rachel was a social beast by nature, and despite what you'd think, being a vampire in a new city didn't exactly revitalize her.

To be honest she felt as if a part of her was still dead. She knew that she was told not to try to revisit her old life, but she was curious about what happened with those she left behind. By the time she looked up what happened in her absence, she suddenly became turned off from pursuing the matter further. After that, she got a few weeks or so by herself, to mourn in silence and loneliness. This was one miserable way to spend Christmas, to say the very least.

By now she barley leaves the house, and when she does, it's by the new name given to her; Vivian "Viv" Manning. As "Viv", Rachel found it hard to meet new people.

She tried going to a few parties in the hills, but she didn't exactly click with the people there. In the past few months, she slept with an ex gangster, whose name was also Frank; after a later party, Rachel slept with this aspiring actress named Tracy over the course of a weekend. Rachel didn't expect anything too special or serious to come from these encounters, and of course nothing ever did; she truthfully explained to the former that she felt awkward about being with someone with the same name as an ex she still had lingering feelings for; and the latter wasn't looking for a relationship at the time.

Setting her drink aside, Rachel took to her usual evening activity, Rachel undressed herself and made her way to her outdoor poolside. One benefit of all having such high fences was her assurance that there's no peeping toms in this neighborhood, which allows her to feel more comfortable skinny dipping in her pool, and "moonbathing" as she dubs it on her deckchair.

Recently, Rachel has taken to deck-side reading; ever since she learned the truth about certain mythological and/historical figures who may or may not have been vampires. One thing she learned was not to make light of Dracula, and supposedly there are information in Stoker's book left out on the "Accursed One".

Currently, Rachel was reading _"Red Dead_ " a Western, semi-auto-biographical novel about two outlaws, and the fall of the gang they rode with, written by the son of one of the outlaws. As far as she can tell, there's no vampires involved, but she's not too far along.

After forty minutes of swimming and reading, Rachel's train of thought was caught off guard when she heard the sound of buzzing overhead; it was a police helicopter, and it flew over the neighborhood, including her house. If the surrounding sound of police sirens were any indication, there was a police chase occurring in her neighborhood, again.

Normally, Rachel wasn't that self conscious about her nudity, but when the copter's light flashed over her, even if it was for a second, she'd get pretty annoyed about it. Rachel simply huddled her legs towards her chest in a fetal position, hastily covering herself up as the copter passed over her house. Rachel rolled her eyes, flipping a bird at the bird as she got up and made her way back inside. The chase going on outside pretty much killed the quiet time mood she had for the evening, nothing was on and the night was still young.

"Well, you're a vampire now Rachel," she reminded herself "What's a bloodsucker like you to do if you're not terrorizing the local populace ?"

Going to her room to dress for the occasion, Rachel put on a pair of pole dancer heels, black tight leather pants (sausage casing she heard it called), and a pale grey urban safari tank top. As usual, she'd go commando. She put her hair into the style of cheerleader ponytail, and completed her look with uncharacteristically girlish glasses.

Rachel took a moment to admire the view; it was around January her body fully repaired itself. She'd call it a Christmas miracle, but it was on the 29th. By then she was fully ready to present herself in public, albeit at the restraints her new "family" (as they call themselves) put on her, even though she hasn't really heard from them since that night. She hasn't even heard the voice that has followed her the night she awoke.

Every so often she'd have to change her dress, demeanor and hairstyle, sometimes even her accent, especially when she was going somewhere new. It was the first time Rachel felt freedom in a while, even if she was technically a dog on leash.

"Fair maiden and virtuous knights of LA beware; the lioness, is on the hunt." Rachel mused herself.

\----

At two hours, Rachel has visited two restaurants, a bar, mingled her way into a party of college students and even a strip club. So many warm bodies, so much to suck and eat from...and Rachel hasn't had that much luck in that department. Rachel never really had it in to kill people, and as far as she can tell that was a necessity. Try as she might, she was never pushed to her limits. For the longest time, she had to rely on deliveries to feed her fill.

" _This is what weaning's like_ " Rachel thinks to herself, making her way onto a street corner, leaving the latest party behind. She groaned in frustration when she realized she didn't bring her phone. She was also short of change at the moment.

Once again, her train of thoughts were interrupted by car rolling up. Rachel wasn't stupid, she knew what to expect, but even if it's a little out of practice, she knew how to act otherwise.

The car is a white Ferrari, and if the driver was any indication, this was another resident of the Hills. He didn't look too old, maybe twenty seven at the youngest, was white and had a short black goatee. He was dressed in a way that said he was a punk...but a rich punk.

He was probably part of some rappers entourage.

Rachel knew to hug herself, tried her best to look naïve, scared, and cold. She tried hard not to convey a cartoonish puppy dog look.

"Howdy, you look lost." The man says.

"Hi, yes I...I don't have a lift and my friends kind of left me behind. I don't have any money, and my phone died on me." Rachel said, being sure to add a small break in her voice, but at the same time keeping an air of confusion. She didn't want to look like she was about to cry...she's been told that can turn off guys like that.

"I see...it looks like you need a lift...maybe some money ?" Rachel sniffs a little and smirks "I...I am out of change, yes."

"Tell you what, I'm feeling a little generous." The man says and opens the passenger door for her.

"My...my folks always told me not to accept rides from strangers." Rachel says, putting her hands behind her back modestly, puffing her breasts a little, making sure they swing a bit as she sways from side to side. "Alrighty then; name's Carter."

"Amelia," Rachel answers back.

"See, now we aren't strangers!" Rachel blushes a little as she nods and steps in.

As soon as the car turned off, the song _Ass Like That_ by Eminem was blaring over the speakers. Rachel meekly asks "Is- Is it okay if I switch the station ?"

"Be my guest," Carter shrugs.

Rachel turns the seek button until she finds something a little to her liking; by chance, it was Britney Spears' _I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman_ , which she pretended to sing along with before Carter asks "So, where you need dropped off at ?"

"O-oh, uh." Rachel starts "I was staying in Skid Row. The girls from my campus were talking about going to this party. I had so much work to do, but they, y'know, talked me into it. _Come on Amelia, what's the point of keeping that outfit in your closet if you're not going to show it off ?_ " Rachel adds, using a faux valley girl voice on the last bit.

"Really ? I could have sworn I've seen you over at the club." Carter remarks.

"That ? Yeah, we met some guys, at- at the frat party. They, wanted to get some extra fun, and got my friends to go along with them. It's easier to get into these clubs if you have girls in your group, you know ?" Rachel explains.

"I see. It's just, you really seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"What can I say ?" Rachel smiles "I'm a people person. And the dancers were really nice to me. Anyways, the boys got riled up, and asked the girls to come with them to their apartments. I said no, so they left me behind." Rachel shakes a little, making sure to add a break in her voice "It's good to know there are decent guys like you in the city." She adds, pointing to a ring on Carter's finger.

"Oh, that ? Uh, me and the Mrs. have been going through some shit, but I'm trying to make it work." Carter says

"She's in the Hollywood Hills. Me ? I got a place in Temecula. She's fighting for custody of the kids, and looks like she might get them. I just don't want to lose either of them, you know ?"

"Aw, that's sweet. What got you in trouble ?"

"Okay," Carter hesitates "I may have gone to a few strip clubs and kind of gotten careless. I won't bore you with the details, but she didn't take to kindly too one of the house guests. But I see someone like you ? I tell you this, I got a kid sister living with my folks. She's about your age, and if I saw her left alone on the streets like this ? Let me tell ya, there are some real sickos out there."

"Ain't that the truth ?" Rachel thinks to herself, eyeing him carefully, but not letting him see it.

"You said you were short of cash ?" Carter asks "I got plenty to spare."

"Oh, no." Rachel modestly shakes her head "I just need a lift back to my house."

"Well, it's like I said...I'm feeling generous." This is when Carter's car pulls over into an alley. Rachel hasn't been in the area, but she wagered this was in Harbor City.

"Why are we stopping here ?" She asks, externally pretending to be nervous. Internally, she had a smug pride as a lion would have catching a gazelle.

"Look, you may not need money, but you need a lift. Now I am feeling generous tonight, but generosity comes at a price." Carter says, leaning his seat back.

" _Of course it does_ ," Rachel internally roles her eyes. The facial expression she makes is one of scared confusion "B-but I never..." Rachel lies.

"Relax. Everyone has a first. All you need to do, is use your mouth." Carter explains with a calm smile.

"B-but you said you and your wife-"

"The Ms. doesn't need to know." Carter says "Or, you can walk back to your house ? But all things considered, you don't seem to know the neighborhood, and you said your phone is dead. No money. Very, very little options."

" _Well, at least I don't have to feel guilty about this_." Rachel thinks to herself. It takes all her will not smirk as she keeps a sacred expression on her face, and snakingly nods her head "I'll...I'll do it." In the back of Rachel's head, she can hear something chanting; that same noise she heard in the hospital, when she first gave into her hunger.

Carter smiles and leans back, already undoing his pants. Once he pulled it out, Rachel had to make it appear this is her first time seeing one up close. She widened her innocent looking eyes with curiosity, her lips shakes a little as she looks up at the expectant man. Rachel pretends to be nervous, as she got down off her seat onto the car floor. She made it a point to shake nervously and even sniffle a few times as she made shaky breaths, and began to lean forward.

She was interrupted as she heard his phone go off. Carter is quick to answer "Oh, hey mom...No you just woke me up. Is this important ? It's almost midnight...no I didn't get Nancy's pictures." Carter grabbed hold of Rachel's head and ushered her forward. Rachel slowly licked her lips and let out a final shaky breath and a slow nod, open her mouth and leans forward, flicking her tongue a little. Carter continues talking to his mother, mentioning something about his niece and a school play she was in today...what he didn't notice was the vampire girl bared her fangs.

Carter let go of the phone, and screams as a loud, wet and sickening _**crunch** _could be heard over the phone. Rachel took him into her throat, and began to drink. She could have sworn she felt a few tendons rip. If she gritted her teeth any harder she may just rip it off. It could have been ten or twenty seconds of Carter screaming bloody murder, before Rachel spat out his flaccid member, admiring the mark of shame she inflicted on him.

Carter was now crying and muttering incoherently, as Rachel looked up with a literal bloody smirk. Her eyes became a dark yellow as she looked up at him, showing her fangs and the remnants of blood on her teeth "Was I good enough on my first try, you happy little pervert ?"

Carter screams and wails as Rachel casually gets out of his car and hastily makes her way out of the alley.

\----

Some time later, Rachel was at a dock, having just finished upchucking as she tries to process what she has just done.

This was the first time where she willingly fed on a living person - one who tried to sexually assault her, but still. Never mind that she drank from...there of all places, Rachel's mind was clear enough to think about what she has just done. If he dies from the blood loss, then she is a murderer; if she did, she could easily kill again, and she'd risk losing what made her a moral person in her own mind; if she did something to infect him, then she just created another vampire; on the other hand, if he doesn't turn, what the hell is he going to tell people, if he tells them at all ?

Rachel looked down her body, and noticed the bloody mess she made down the front of her body.

She can't exactly walk home looking like...this ? The Rachel looked down into the water...it wasn't exactly the most rational thing to do, but Rachel wasn't exactly in the right mindset.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel dove into the water below her.

She swam.

She swam for what had to be hours in the deep blue darkness.

One perk of being the undead gave negated her need to breath, and swimming this way brought about an nostalgic feeling of how she'd play pretend to be Ariel when she was a kid. Now that she was actually in the sea, and actually didn't need to breath, there was more authenticity here than in her girlhood fantasies.

By the time she returned to the surface, the bloody has washed from her clothes, and she saw the sky turn a dark purple.

She was reaching he daylight hours, and had to return home quick. She stared towards the shore, and saw she has reached Santa Monica Pier.

It was simply a matter of reaching the shore, hoping that no late night beachgoers would notice an absolutely soaked girl clamering onto the sand and making her way to the parking lot. Anyone catches her, she can easily spin a story of how she fell off a boat. Hopefully she can find a less pervy resident to hitch a ride from, but at the moment, she's going to have to rely on her own two feet to reach shelter.

As she passed a post, something caught her attention - among the many promotional posters, wanted or missing posters, and adds, one in particular stood out; _"Lover's in R'lyeh: A Romantic Epic_ " was to be shown at a local stage theatre. Tickets don't look too expensive, and the next showing was in four days. What in peculiar caught Rachel's attention was a name on the bill.

Stephanie Gingrich was cast as a co-star. Rachel smiled to herself at the thought; she'll need a change of clothes and style of course, keep herself scarce and careful, but at least there was someone from her past here.

She has been warned not to see anyone she knew as a human, after all Rachel Amber has been dead for months. But still the temptation of seeing a familiar face, after so long, all she has to do is remain unseen.

Rachel has a common enough face, all it takes is a change of clothes and style, and she can blend in like a chameleon. And it's not like her "family" will notice as long as Rachel isn't seen. Hell, she hasn't seen or heard anything from these "Mother's Children" since November now.

As of now, Rachel's plans for the weekend has changed.

\-----

Over the next several days, Amelia the naïve sorority girl disappeared, and Vivian Manning, the aspiring Hollywood model remerged. All it takes for Rachel is a change of clothes, makeup and hairstyle. In this case, it was an emphasis on black and purple makeup to give herself a gothic appearance; dressing in safari platform sandals and a black tie dress, Rachel made herself presentable for the night. Buying the tickets for the next show, Rachel did a little looking into about what this play would be about.

" _Lover's in R'lyeh: A Romantic Epic_ " is as the title indicates, an epic romance, based on the Cthulhu Myhos.

It was also a musical compared to _Wicked_ , and had a sordid history to go with it; supposedly the current play is based off of a revised draft and an unproduced play dating back to 1937. There's an Urban Legend that one of the original play-writes went insane in the process of writing and committed suicide before he could finish; a mysterious H. King, who is credited as the original co-writer but no one could find them. It wasn't until last year was the original draft found, rewritten and finished in its current form. The choice to make it a musical, and the songs written were new additions to the play.

The night of the showing, Rachel made her way into the theatre at the seats she was designated; front row. In the back of her mind Rachel knew she shouldn't be trying to get attention, but she wasn't thinking with her head, but rather a nostalgic filter and a need to see someone or something familiar.

To be honest Rachel doesn't know why she is suddenly fixated on Steph; she was mostly friends with her through Chloe, and it has been about two years since she's seen Steph. Aside from a few personal encounters or hangouts with Steph, she never considered anything serious or spectacular to come from it. She isn't even planning or expecting a reunion or anything. Once again, Rachel chalks it up to a desire to see a familiar face.

" _Lover's in R'lyeh_ " was a four hour show, and told to the tale of Ancient R'lyeh before it sank into the depths of the Pacific. The story revolves around a lowly servant and the daughter of a human high priest falling in love as the forces of Cthulhu descend upon humanity. None of the classic Lovecraftian figures appear, but the presence of the Great Old Ones and Elder God's is empathized and felt throughout; the only exception being the main villain, all but spelled out to be Nyarlathotep, who serves as the Pope of sorts for the religion started within R'lyeh.

It's pretty clear that the plot, at least this version of it, was influenced by _The Little Mermaid_ and _Titanic_ , especially in regards to it's love story. The songs were able to give Rachel goosebumps; from it's love theme " _Stars Fall, Seas Rise_ "; to it's villain song " _The Friendliest Stranger_ ". Overall , the play had an anti-nihilistic message to it about finding hope and meaning in a world without it.

As it turns out Steph has a supporting role. Steph was playing a slave woman named Aminnon Rhade; she served as a comic relief best friend and "wing woman" of sorts to the lead female. She was wearing a mask across her eyes and wore a costume that left little to the imagination, she even got her own song about uplifting ones spirit (" _In Strange Eons_ "), which involved her dancing with the lead and their backup dancers in a particularly erotic matter.

As Rachel became engrossed in the performance, she noticed someone sitting beside and eyeing her. The song was loud enough so that Rachel could only hear her voice and that of the woman sitting next to her.

"You liking what you see ?" A woman asks. She looked older than Rachel by a few years, had shortcut red hair, and a bright green form fitting dress, and a French accent.

"Hmm ?" Rachel asks. 

"The play I mean ?"

"Oh, yes." Rachel nods with a whisper.

"That and...I couldn't help but notice the way you're looking at my petite amie." The woman says.

"I mean," Rachel shrugs keeping her voice down "She is making herself pretty noticeable."

"Emphasis on pretty." The woman says. She looks to the stage and gives a small wave to Steph. Steph in the meantime, stuck to her performance, but as she did a spin, she gave a wink only Rachel and the woman noticed as they aligned with her eyesight. "Cathy Mortimer," the woman gives her hand for Rachel to shake.

"Vivian Manning," Rachel shakes the woman's hand "I don't come out here often, but I heard good things about this play."

"Do you often see plays like this ?" Cathy asks.

"Nothing new, usually. I make exception to Wicked, Disney goes Broadway, and the classics." Rachel answers truthfully.

"I see, and I take it you know someone here ? That's why tonight is an exception ?"

"What is this ? Twenty questions ?" Rachel asks.

"Just trying to make conversation. Stephanie, she's a doll, no ? Real people person." Cathy explains "While you ? You look familiar."

"I get that a lot. I have a common enough face."

"Of that, I can see." Cathy nods as the song ends.

The two went back to watching the play.

\-----

A half our after the show ends, Rachel was finishing off in the bathroom. She's not exactly a public crier, but she did find herself having to wipe her eyes at the bittersweet ending.  
She read enough Lovecraft's Mythos to not expect an optimistic outcome, especially when forgone conclusion dictates the sinking of R'lyeh, but the sweet part of the bittersweet ending threw her off.

Rachel has just finished wiping her eyes, and tried to reapply her makeup. When she got a good look at herself with the black and purple mascara running down her cheeks and eyes did Rachel think back to the first time she saw her reflection when she awoke.

Sure she was ostensibly a flesh and blood human being, but looking into her reflection, was a reminder that she - Rachel Amber - was dead. A walking corpse. When she looked into the mirror then, she saw a literal phantom of her former self. When she looks now, she sees a mask she has to wear. And even then, whenever Rachel sleeps, she more often than not goes back in that room.

That bright flashing light, that blinds her as it it were darkness; the two muffled voices arguing; the feeling of hands handling her, moving her into a certain position, stripping a piece of clothes off of her; the sting of needles into her skin at random intervals, poking and prodding her at times; and the feeling of something pouring into her veins. She knew it had to be drugs in retrospect, but she felt as if it was trading something new into her as it took her life. And when the darkness finally took her, she finally heard a clear voice **_"Now daughter, you are mine."_**

Rachel felt someone tap her shoulder, and she turns around to see it was Cathy.

"Stunning performance, wasn't it ?" Cathy asks with a smile "I only hope that you were not so captivated, that you'd leave anything behind." She casually takes a phone out of her purse - it was Rachel's phone.

"Oh, uh" Rachel starts before taking her phone "Thanks. Yeah, it- it was spellbinding." She says with a nod.

"I'm sure the cast would appreciate the compliment. As a matter of fact, one of them is with me right now." As Cathy says this, another woman enters.

"Cathy, I'm sure if we report it to the Lost and Fou-" the new woman stops. Stephanie "Steph" Gingrich was nigh unrecognizable from when Rachel last saw her. Steph was out of costume, now dressed in a dark trench coat, her hair grew out a little, and the sight of her without her hat was nearly alien. Ironically, Steph wore more makeup than Rachel did. If it wasn't enough to render Rachel a deer in the headlights, Steph herself found herself frozen too. Rachel wasn't sure how much time passed before on of them spoke, and Rachel was the one who made the initiative.

"Good evening," Rachel extended her hand to shake "My name is Vivian Manning. I have heard so much about the show and wanted to congratulate you on your performance. Miss Gingrich, or is it Mrs ?"

"It's Miss still," Steph nods with an awkward smile.

"Not for long hopefully," Cathy remarks.

"My friends call me Steph."

"Mine call me Viv," Rachel answers back

"Or at least they would if I made more of them."

"Ah, well maybe we can help with that." Cathy says, before Steph talks for her.

"I've got other shows coming up, and looking to get more roles. I always appreciate support from our audience." Steph explains as she looks up and down Rachel's body, as if she's unsure of what she is seeing "Hopefully, you can make it to my other shows. If- if you're interested, of course."

"I'll...see what's on my to-do list." Rachel gives a sincere smile "I have always been a fan of live performances, and have been looking for more of a pastime lately."

"Ah, well, I'll be keeping my eye out for you then." Steph says as she and Cathy take their leave. Before they exit Steph turns her head around to say  
"See you around, Viv."

When Rachel was sure she was alone, she lets out a deep breath she's been holding in for the entire conversation, looking back into the mirror.

"See you around, Steph."


	4. Route A: First Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the first of my "Route A" chapters. 
> 
> While the bulk of the story remains the same, Route A chapters are specific to a timeline where "Sacrifice Arcadia Bay/Parting Ways" is considered canon. 
> 
> Route B which is still being worked on, but will be exclusive a timeline where "Sacrifice Chloe/Redemption" are considered canon.
> 
> I still haven't figured out how to fix the end notes

**March, 2020**

To say the past few years have been a cluster fuck, would be an understatement.

Had things gone perfectly, Sean would be with his brother Daniel; arguing about with Daniel over hogging the bathroom or some noise like that; or teasing Daniel over his crush on Lyla; and they'd both tease Sean over his crush on Jenn.

In a perfect world, his dad would still be alive.

In a perfect world Sean wouldn't have gotten to where he is now.

Settling down in Puerto Lobos wasn't easy for the first few weeks, but a few odd jobs here and there, and he got a comfortable enough condo.

At the moment, Sean was attending a wedding reception, along with and his two housemates. Sean himself sat at a corner, as it was only his housemates doing the work, and he was sort of a tag-along. The reception was being held at a country club; he didn't know too much of the details other than it was a Jack and Rose deal; he was poor boy, she was a rich girl, can I make it any more obvious ? The three were dressed for the occasion, but it felt a little out of place for them; to put it bluntly, Sean was not a tux guy, nor was Cassidy one for extravagant dresses.

Lucy "Cassidy" Jones was on a stage for at a country club, having made a living for herself preforming live shows, and was currently doing acoustic covers of any genre. This gig was no different, aside from having two other guitarists on stage to for backup.

Finn MacNemra, in the meantime, did part time jobs at a slaughterhouse, but nowadays mostly works bars at the club - Sean was just a plus one. Sean himself didn't go out very often, but since both Finn and Cassidy were hired by the bride's parents, he figured the least he could do was keep a low profile, sitting at a table out of sight and out of mind.

Or he tried.

"Hey, aren't you the comic writer ?" One of the guests ask him. It was the bride's brother and he was a little older than Daniel.

"Uh, si, si. That's me alright." Sean answered with a smile.

"I don't expect you to notice me, but I follow you on Twitter."

"As it that so ?" Sean chuckles "I don't really go on there anymore. Thing's got to political."

"I see. Hey, about the comic, how much of it was true ?"

Kind of a bold question, but he's just a kid, he didn't judge "Well, for one thing me and my brother aren't wolves...as far as I know." Sean adds jokingly "But maybe I'll find out during a full moon."

"Okay, but the animal characters...they're based on real people, right?" The kid asks.

"I'm not comfortable answering that." Sean says bluntly and honestly. Silently he was thankful the kid didn't ask of the "real" hunter was struck by lighting. He's got more than a few people questioning if it was supposed to symbolize God punishing the cop.

An older, well dressed man Sean recognized as the bride's father, walks up to the table, addressing the boy as he takes him by the shoulder.

"Ernesto, I told you to stop bugging the guests." The man says.

"Sorry papa, I just recognized him from the internet." The kid replies.

"Because that's a reassuring comment." The father replies sarcastically, before addressing Sean "Lo siento por ese hombre. This little monster's always getting into trouble."

"Oh, I understand," Sean nods "I have a little monstruo of my own."

"I never seen you around here. You friends with Alex?" The man asked curiously. Alex being the name of the groom.

"Uh, no. My girlfriends the wedding singer, and our housemate is on bar duty tonight." Sean gestures to Cassidy while she's in the midst of preforming an acoustic cover of Don't Stop Believing along with two backup singers. Cassidy see's Sean from the stage and winks.

There's a part of that Sean would also introduce Finn as his boyfriend, but he doesn't think this crowd would be all to accepting of a bisexual polymerous relationship, so he mostly just introduced Cassidy as his girlfriend and Finn as their roommate.

To be fair that's how it started. A while after settling in, Cassidy and Finn both caught up with him to help him find his feet. Cassidy was the one who stayed at first, while Finn sort of went back and forth. Things just sort of happened.

"Ah, you came to show your support too," the man asks "Tell me, does she take requests ?"

"Not without pay, I don't think." Sean shrugs.

"Wanted to request something to dance with my daughter with. I'm thinking that Whitney Huston Bodyguard song."

"You know that's a break-up song, right ?" Sean asks.

"As if I'm not parting ways with the most important girl in my life." The bride's father answers as he walks off.

Just as it was time for the bride to dance with her father, Sean figured he'd stretch his legs himself. He smirked a little as Cassidy prepares her next cover with "Fun fact, this was originally by Dolly Parton."

Sean took his leave out the door. Heading towards the clubs terrace, Sean leans over the railing on the balcony.

The club has a helluva view though, you could see the whole county. In the far distance you could see the city towards the east, and the wall a farther distance to the north. Puerto Lobos could be seen just a twelve minute drive away.

It would be so appropriate to light a cig and take it all in, but Sean wasn't that much of a smoker, especially with Cassidy establishing a no smoking rule in the condo until she was "sure of something". Still, the space and silence were enough for Sean to clear his head think things over for the past few years.

For some time he has been following the news and has had a regular correspondence with Daniel (who, yeah, he was mad with at first, but in time understood why he did what he did). So long as Daniel was safe, than he was satisfied. Sean also has had a few correspondence with his grandparents, his mother; friends; and for the sake of transparency, Agent Flores.

Sean was told the situation; while there was no forensic evidence linking the Diaz brothers to Officer Matthew's death, the criminal activity the brothers got into since then could get Sean fifteen years in prison at least; admittedly, they were probably trying to find something to pin on him. Daniel would get leniency due to his age but the powers that he's been showing off would get an eye kept on him by the government until further notice.

Agent Flores was put in charge at monitoring Daniel for the time being. Daniel, says he overheard a mention that it wasn't just the FBI looking at him, but something called "The Foundation".

Sean was sure he misheard something about anomalies, but the subject was quickly changed.

According to the news he's been following, Daniel has revealed a lot in his testimony when he was put through the legal system; going into details of Lisbeth Fischer's compound there has been no concrete evidence of illegal activity, aside from an under the books attempt at adopting Daniel, but she was all but exposed as a fraud. Along with Jacob, Daniel was essential in the FBI looking into the questionable activity of Lisbeth herself, her church and her staff.

Unfortunately, like many good sheep of the kind, the lot of her followers stayed at Lisbeth's side. There is noise that the FBI are investigating her further, and while there's no warrant for her arrest, time will tell. Sean's been following that case because of how personal it was to Daniel and Jacob, and he learned that a few witnesses and even FBI agents, ended up missing over the last week and that Fischer has taken to isolating her community. Nothing significantly happened yet and as far as he knows FBI investigation is still ongoing, so it's only a matter of time.

At this point, Daniel's ties to Officer Matthew's death was all but forgotten. Now, the government was more interested in what he's been through, over what he did.  
Merrill was already doing time and he doesn't have the possibility of parole for twenty seven years, so Daniel's testimony didn't do much in that department.

Daniel also spoke about Hank Stamper's assault kidnapping of Sean, which got the Stamper's investigated; a local family admitted to seeing Hank with an unconscious Sean, and saw Daniel flee the scene as they passed by. They didn't say anything at the time as they knew Hank and took his word when he explained himself, which led to the Flores questioning the Stampers. When questioned with this information, Doris Stamper folded pretty quickly and ended up confessing to what her husband did.

Ultimately Hank wasn't going to see jailtime, aside from wearing an ankle bracelet of his own, and two years parole; but between court costs, bail, a settlement the Stamper's were required to pay and the fact their business often ended up being harassed and even vandalized by the "#JusticeForDiaz" crowd, it was hardly a smack on the wrist.

As for Sean himself, it took time to re-adjust. When the dust settled, Sean reestablished a fracture of his old life with a social media presence. Turned out he had quite a following, and while the law wasn't exactly on his side, the general public seemed split, and some of the media was on his side.

You've got the more conservative side who say that Sean needs to answer for what happened between October and July if true justice is to be seen; the extreme conservative minority accusing him of being a cop killer who got away due to "Left Wing Political Agendas", death threats towards him and his brother, racist tweets, etc. The more liberal side of things seem to make it more about his race than anything else, claiming they were a victim of conspiracy.

It wasn't enough to get Sean to return to the states, considering a fugitives legal status isn't decided by popular demand. He'd be put on trial, at the very least for everything that happened between Matthews death, and the confrontation at the Border. Even if he was innocent in Matthew's death, he did work for a drug dealer, and was an accomplice in arson.

Still, Sean was able to make a moderate success of himself. He produced a web comic about two wolf brothers - an obvious commentary on he and Daniel's journey. No real names were mentioned but a few obvious stand-ins were obvious. Especially for those who were there.

Sean was able to monetize his E-Fame, produce a graphic novel adaptation of the comic, and got a small cult following. He rarely made public statements on social media, other than memorials for his father, and has received an offer to "air things out" with the Matthews family over a podcast. He hasn't responded to the last one yet.

His friend Lyla was also running a podcast on social justice, and has been one of his many liaisons to his old life and through social media.

His others include, the Heckerman siblings, Jacob and Sarah Lee, who have settled in Beaver Creek, and for a while spent time in the Reynolds house. From what Sean heard, Sarah, Daniel and Chris are as thick as thieves.

So far Jacob has been fitting in with Beaver Creek, and has become a friend of the family. He tells Sean that Claire has been helping him come to terms with his faith, while Finn was helping him come to terms with his sexuality whenever Finn went back and forth between Beaver Creek and Puerto Lobos, keeping an eye on Daniel and Sean, and Cassidy.

Ever since their time at Merrill's camp, Sean and Cassidy became a tight nit. Being Sean's first serious girlfriend and the woman he lost his virginity to would do that. In the weeks that passed since Sean settled in, Sean would also spend a hefty amount of time with Finn when Cassidy became sick one week.

They planned on taking a trip to Sistema Dos Ojos when Cassidy was acting up, so when Finn accompanied Sean, something more than friendship grew between them. When they returned home and explained themselves, and understanding Cassidy was the one who suggested their current "family unit".

From there, their trios bond was stronger.

Not as strong an effect as Sean's concerns for Daniel, but a strong effect none the less. The two were some of the of the few people in his life that can really get to him. Cassidy and Finn were two of Sean's top pack members in his book (literally or no).

Sean looked back in his journey the past year and a half. He's come to think of the family he gained over this journey. He's come to think of this as a pack.

No, he did not have what is called a "alpha male" complex. Contrary to popular myth, wolf packs are not formed with a Strong vs Weak mentality. They are formed by a mating pair, and their families. Sometimes he hears how they take unrelated members into their families; that's kind of how he see's the Diaz pack, being the friends and family he made over the years.

"Pretty view, huh ?" Sean hears Finn ask, as the latter walks up and wraps his arms around him from behind. Must have been break time.

"Think I should take a picture ?"

"You see one picture of a pretty sunset, you see them all." Finn shrugs "Going to be heading back to Beaver Creek for the weekend; was wondering if you knew what Daniel wanted. You know, for a gift ?"

"I don't know, I haven't been able to reach his phone either today or yesterday." Sean answers, taking out his phone to see the signal. Four bars.

Finn looks over Sean's shoulder and shrugs "Maybe there's a blackout there. Maybe he's found himself a little misses."

Sean scoffs/laughs at this.

"If Daniel found himself a girlfriend I would never hear the end of it."

"When my older brother got one, I think he forgot anyone else existed. Once me and my other brothers joined them on a date to this theatre, we were left behind when they left." Finn remarks.

"Dios Mio," Sean gasps.

"Well, it wasn't that dramatic, but boy did we hold that over his-" Finn starts before Sean stops him, and points out to what he's seen.

Sean and Finn look up over the horizon to see smoke coming from Puerto Lobos and the sound of police sirens blaring in the far distance. By the looks of it, at least one building is in flames, and 911 respondents are trying to keep control of the situation.

"Oh my God," Finn mutters "Think anyone's alright ?"

"Hopefully, it's probably just a house fire." Sean shakes his head "It should be under control - I hope it is, I mean."

Sean and Finn take a final look at the smoke rising in the distance, before turning back to rejoin the party.

Had they stayed a few minutes, they would have seen the carnage spread further; how SWAT helicopters and even state officers would turn up to try to stop whatever is happening, in a vain effort. Maybe they would have heard the sounds of hundreds of people screaming in terror, agony and despair, echoing across the landscape as they were being picked off as the sun disappeared.

What they could they not know was that there was something(s) that passed through Pueto Lobos, and is making its way to the club, onto the scent of blood.

\-----  
Later that same evening.

After Cassidy returned from her (third) bathroom break, she sat at her seat with Sean at the clubs bar.

"You sure you don't need something to drink ?" Finn asks her.

"Nothing alcoholic," Cassidy shakes her head. It must have been something she ate, Sean thought.

"Three weeks ago I saw you down a quarter of a keg in a funnel game. What's got you all designated driver tonight ?"

"I just thought I'd take it easy for a while."

Sean paid little heed to their conversation having made another attempt to call Daniel.

"Still no word from Daniel," Sean says checking his phone.

"After seven calls ? I'm sure he's fine," Finn slides a drink to Sean, turning back to Cassidy "What was that thing you wanted to talk about ?"

"It can wait," Cassidy shakes her head, turning back to Sean "And between you and me, my money's on that he found a little lady friend."

"We've been over that," Sean sighs "Whenever something new happens with Daniel, he is always the first to tell me...I tried calling Claire and Stephen too; nothing."

"Worst case scenario's their phones aren't working." Cassidy starts.

"That's not the worse case scenario; I can think of a few more, but you probably don't want to hear them." Finn says.

\-----

Outside the clubs gates, a car hastily pulls over. Two security guards approach the vehicle to see three disheveled and a woman emerge, clearly in a panic.

Their clothes were covered in blood and soot, as they hastily make their way towards the gate. This put the guards on alert as one tries to calm the situation.

"Fácil fácil tigre. Donde esta el fuego ?" (" _Easy easy, tiger. Where's the fire ?_ ") A guard asks.

"Por favor, señor, ha habido un accidente por el camino. ¡Solo necesitamos usar el teléfono!" (" _Please sir, there's been an accident down the road. We just need to use the phone!_ ") A skinny man, who looked as if he had just finished crying, exclaims.

"Me temo que no podemos dejarte entrar aquí. Hay una boda en curso, y no podemos dejarte entrar aquí pareciendo-" (" _I'm afraid we can't let you in here. There's a wedding going on, and we can't just let you in here looking like_ -")

"Oh, por el amor de Dios! Encontramos un chico! Maldita sea,Creo que se esta muriendo!" (" _Oh for the love of God! We found a kid on the road! Dammit, I think he's dying!_ ") The woman, still in hysterics exclaimed at the guards.

"Podemos dejar que uno de ustedes use el teléfono, pero no podemos permitir que interrumpas el-" (" _We can let one of you in to use the phone, but we can't have you disrupting the_ -") One guard starts before a more cautious one interrupts.

"Where was this accident ?"

"Just off the highway, right on the coast-shore road. Come on man, you can see the smoke from here." One of the other passengers points at the large amounts of smoke rising from Puerto Lobos. Which one of the guards was quick to point out.

"There's something going on there. We don't know what but it looks like pandemonium. There's police blockades and everything! Goddamn, they might just send in the army while they're at it!"

One of the guards nods to his partner "Alright, we'll let you in to use the phone. I'll check on this kid you're talking about and see how bad he's hurt."

With that, the disheveled man follows the guard to his post, while the other guard walks up to the car. Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched from the shadows.

"They came out of nowhere!" The woman cried "I think they are following us! What kind of monster does this to a little boy ?"

The guard nods understandingly "I he still breathing ? Is he still conscious ?" While he tried to keep a calm, professional air about him, he was ill prepared for such a situation, let alone for what was about to happen.

At the post, the disheveled man was mumbling incoherently under his breath as he made his way towards the phone.

"You got a name, padre ?"

"Sal. Sal Alonso." He mutters as he dials in the number. He waits several seconds before hanging up "It's nothing."

"The line's busy ?"

"No," Sal shakes his head "The line is dead."

Back at the car, the other guard peered into the backseat; kid had to be three to four years old, and that is what made it all the more spine tingling. And yet his hair was matted and dripping with the crimson liquid that drenched his clothes, and soaked his skin.

The woman was still in hysterics, being consoled by the two other men, while the guard climbs into the back seat. Cautiously, he reached towards the kids neck and felt for his pulse.

1...2...3...4...nothing...1...2...3...4...5 Nothing, but the smallest breath.

If the kid conscious, he wasn't showing it. One thing was for sure, the guard wasn't feeling any pulse, but he could hear the child breathing.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of his partner screaming.

"Ahrck!" A garbled scream could be heard, as the other guard was thrown out of his post, bleeding heavily from the neck.

Above him, Sal emerges from the post, with a manic grin. In his teeth, he was carrying something - something that was fleshy.

The wounded guard takes his gun and points it at Sal, who simply reaches down and grabs hold of the arm before the trigger could be pulled, and rips it off by the elbow.

The maimed man couldn't scream, as his larynx was torn out, as Sal and the previously hysterical woman converged on him.

The other guard, who was frozen at the sight finally snapped, took hold of his own gun and pointed. Had he not let his guard down, the child in the back seat wouldn't have woken up, and gone for his jugular.

These creatures work fast but brutally, reducing the two guards to mincemeat without so much as a whimper. The otherwise quiet attack was echoed by the sound of a few vehicles pulling up; a black limo and four matching black pickup trucks, each filled with people.

You could almost heard the limo's radio blaring as it pulled to a stop; " _Go Hard or Go Home_ " by Roy Jones Jr. From the front seat, the drivers open the back to let out a man appearing to be twenty five years of age. The man wears a dark red leather jacket, incrusted with diamonds and gold chains along the torso and sleeves, with a cig in hand. He surveys the area as the other trucks pull to a halt and their occupants clamber out, with the scent of blood in the air.

The man flicks his cigarette, as he walks to the trunk of the limo, opening it to reveal a dark metallic mask, which he puts on. Next he pulls from his trunk, a five foot long longsword.

He turns his head to address one of his newly arrived cronies. All of them wearing red and black gang colors and flags, many looked pale, corpse-like even. Like something out of a zombie movie.

"Is this it ? ¿Es este el lugar?" The man in the mask asks.

"Si, that's what their neighbors said."

"Not particularly loyal neighbors weren't they ?" The man in the mask replies "As usual ladies and gents; take prisoners, accept no surrender. When we find our target, leave him to me, least you wish for a blood eagle!" The man shouts, addressing the rest of his cronies, as they make their way towards the club.

The man in the mask looks down as he passes one of the guards, who has been reduced to a blood mess by the kid from the earlier group.

"Niño, did you do that by yourself ?"

The kid looks up, nervously at first, but nods with a proud smile.

The man turns to face the group from earlier "¿Ves eso, Alonso? Your brother wasn't bad for his first rodeo!" He adds with a friendly pat on the kid's head, before moving onwards.

\----

Inside the club's reception Hall, the party was dying down. Many of the guests have left save for the bride, groom and several friends and family members.

Sean, Finn and Cassidy in the meantime, were still talking among themselves. This time about Finn's upcoming trip to Bear Creek, and what Daniel could be up to.

"Alright, Sean how about this? If I see that Daniel has a girlfriend, and has been dodging you because of her, you owe me 500 dollars. If not, than I owe you the same amount." Finn remarks.

"You're going have a pretty lousy financial experience then." Sean jokes "700 says he's still holding out on Lyla. He held onto that since kindergarten."

"Alright, I'll bite." Cassidy smirks with a roll in her eye "900 says you both are wasting your time and he just broke his phone or something."

"For real though, I could use the money." Finn adds "Thinking of getting him a gift. There's a game he's been waiting for that keeps getting delayed, and I know this guy who can pirate physical copies for a pri-"

Their conversation is cut off by the sound of screaming, as the doors from the entrance break open and a man is tossed as he slides across the floor. Both of the mans legs are cut off.

Stepping over him is a man in a mask, carrying a longsword over his shoulder as it it were a baseball bat. He began to speak over the mortified screaming and occasional weeping of the witnesses.

"Buenas noches, ladies and germs." The Masked man says "I know, weddings are very special occasions, but we have gone through so much trouble trying to get here. It would appear-" His speech is interrupted by the sound of the legless man, cursing up at him. The masked man's calm demeanor slips with the next sentence. "Leave my mother out of this!"

With a swing of his sword, the masked man slices the head off his shoulders and the entire room erupts into screams.

Finn took hold of Sean and Cassidy's wrists and pulled them over the bar and shushes them.

"There is an emergency exit just at the back. Just follow me and keep quiet." Finn whispers.

"We can't just leave them there!" Sean whispers harshly.

"What can we do, Sean ?" Finn looks over to see several people entering the hall as well, each covered in blood. It was almost as if they were going for a zombie like look, and Finn had a growing feeling they just want to play pretend.

"Sean, Finn's right," Cassidy whispers "There's nothing we can do..."

Finn sneakily crawls towards the back door, shushing the other two as the follow with him. The Man in the Mask continues his speech as his cronies advance on the wedding guests, and gather them into the center of the room.

"Now we are looking for a very special person, and by special, I do not mean disabled." The Masked Man remarks to the guests "Originally we were going to make this a less bloody mess, and you fine people, have it within your power to make it less, and less bloody. As some of you may know or not know, you have a wanted fugitive in your presence. We checked his home first, but a little birdy told us, he is one of the guests here."

Sean's eyes widen as he overhears this "Oh no...goddammit..." he whispers.

"I am not snitching for no one!" One of the Groom's friends shouts out.

"Then your loyalty is your end." The Man in the Mask remarks as he walks up to the mouthy guest, and drives the sword down into his head. Once again, the guests scream for their fallen.

In the midst of it all, the Man turned around, as if he heard the cry of a child behind him. He looks towards the front door, and yet see's nothing but the space between him and the wall. And judging by the non reaction from the other vamps, it would appear no one else has heard it. "Curious," he thinks to himself. His attention was caught by another shrill cry, just in front of him.

One woman became so hysterical that the Man in the Mask had to run her through, quickly getting annoyed by her outburst. "Oh, enough theatrics! If it were up to me, none of this would have been happening, but I am only here as a deal. You co-operate, you see the sunrise tomorrow. It's that simple."

"Please," the Bride weeps "Just don't kill us."

"I am not one who kills a woman on her wedding day. And frankly, these tasks are beneath me." The Man places the sword underneath her chin and raise her gaze to meet his "My friends though ? Have no such moral restraints, so I suggest you play ball; you may just save a lot of peoples lives."

The Man was interrupted when he hears the door close. He turns he attention to the bar, to see the back door.

"Looks like I have my answer." The Masked Man says to himself, before turning to one of his comrades "If you do not hear from me in an hour, do what you will with these good people...just don't kill the bride, it's her special day after all."

The Man bounds towards the door, as Sean, Finn and Cassidy make their way down the hall in a fast pace. Despite Finn locking the door behind him, the Masked Man barges through with a shove of his body. He spots them just in time to see Cassidy disappear around the corner from down a long hallway.

The Man maintains his pace, dragging his sword across the floor.

\-----

By the time they reach their jeep, it was a matter of Finn opening opening the doors, and the three hastily getting in. By the time they turn on their headlights, they see the Masked Man emerging from the back door, staring them down.

At Sean and Cassidy's insistent urging, Finn started the car and tried to pull out of the club's back driveway and towards the front. Unfortunately, there was the matter of over a dozen "people" watching them with white gleaming eyes.

They were all unafraid, unmoving, as Finn was pulled to a sudden halt. A few of them grinned, shown their teeth - their very sharp teeth.

"Floor it!" Cassidy exclaims in a panic as these people made their ways toward the jeep.

Finn didn't need to be told twice. He put the pedal to the metal as the jeep barrels through the crowd. Many of them fell to the way side. Another rolled off the front, a few held on to the roof, side doors and bumper of the jeep.

Finn drove down the road, his two partners screaming at him to shake them off.

"I'm trying too!" Finn exclaims, zig-zagging around the road, as three of these creatures already fell off.

As they reach a forested area on the highway, Finn pulled the jeep into a halting stop as the one who was crawling on the roof was flung several feet in front of them. It looked like a man, and he was bouncing and twisting before he rolled to a stop.

"D-do, you think he's dead ?" Sean started to ask as they watched the body for a few seconds.

"Don't jinx it-" Finn starts before Cassidy screams.

Look in the rearview window, they see several sets of white eyes making their way through the darkness. And the man in front of them started to get back up, grotesquely pulling and popping several joints back in place.

Finn floors the jeep again "I told you not to jinx it!"

The jeep barrels over the man in front of them as it made it's way back to town.

While Finn tried to keep himself focused on the road, Sean and Cassidy were hysterically going over just what the hell these things were. What they were saying wasn't exactly coherent due to their panic, but they all but reached the conclusion these were zombies.

By the time Puerto Lobos was on the horizon, they saw the town in smoke, flames and multiple people, all disheveled, bruised, broken, being escorted out by state officers and ambulances.

A police car, not too off in front of them flashes it's headlights as an male officer walks into the middle of the road waving the jeep down.

While Sean tried to keep calm with Cass and Finn, internally all three of them were screaming.

In Sean's case, it's because the police were the ones giving him and his brother grief for so long.

For...obvious reasons, Sean was nervous and uneasy around the cops. He still wasn't sure he could trust them after everything that happened; he thought he could avoid putting all the bad eggs in the same basket. He thought maybe the police in Mexico would be different but word spreads, especially if one has the same infamous as Sean. It would seem that Sean's rep as a possible "cop killer" has spread here and was just as divisive.

Even after subsequent investigations, Sean still got the occasional "We'll be keeping an eye on you." from the local police as he started settling in. Boys in blue look after their own after all. From then, Sean made a point to avoid the police when he could.

In this case, the police officer in question appeared to be among those trying to help protect the civilians from...whatever is happening here.

The officer taps the window, which Finn rolls down.

"Hey, what's going on ?" Finn nervously asks "There's been-I don't know something happened at the country club up the road."

"Yeah, something happened here too," The officer nods "This area's been closed off until we get things under control. We're trying to get everyone out of here, somewhere safe."  
Then the officer notices the blood on the front of the jeep.

"What is that from ?"

"That- that was-" Sean starts before he is interrupted.

"Whatever those things are, they're been chasing us down. One of them fell in front of us." Cassidy explains with a shaky nod "You've seen them too, haven't you ?"

The officer nods "Okay then, are any of you okay ?"

"Just a little shaken." Sean answers truthfully.

"Alright, we're gonna get some paramedics here to look you three over, just to be sure." The officer explains "There's something spreading out over the area, and- and we need to make sure none of you are bitten. Just need to you step out for a minute."

Reluctantly, the three of them stepped out, as the officer waved over an ambulance and two paramedics stepped out.

Sean, Finn and Cassidy reluctantly did as asked. Told to put their hands on the side of the jeep for a frisking, they were told to take off their jackets, unbitten their shirts, roll up, and even take off their pants.

In Cassidy's case, it was was to lift her dress.

As the paramedics explained "Just a precaution; we're only making sure you aren't hiding any bite marks on us."

They were padded up and down their arms, legs and torsos.

Sean could admit he's been in more embarrassing and humiliating situations, but he didn't think of the precautions. If the worst case scenario was happening, and this was a zombie apocalypse of sorts, this had to be done and gotten over with.

That's when they felt something small and sharp press into their necks.

\-----  
Sean was not expecting to see what he saw when he came too. He thought that he would be in an ambulance, or hospital. Even a jail cell.

The back seat of the limo was about the ninety seventh thing he thought he'd end up in.

His vision was still blurry, but as far as he could tell it was still night out. There appeared to be a light shining above him, always changing from red, green, blue and purple. In the ringing of his ear could tell him that the limo's speakers were blaring Tech9's " _Caribou Lou_ ".

Sean was sluggish and could barley move, but he managed to turn his head beside him. Finn and Cassidy were beside him on their seat, still undressed as they were as they were being frisked.

Between them, Cassidy and Finn were not as out of it as Sean was, but they were still unmoving. Most likely out of mortification than whatever drug they were given. Maybe Sean was given a bigger dose, but when he turned his head, he saw just what spooked them.

Sitting on the far end seat, was a man, given the way he was dressed, he was most certainly the Masked Man at the Country Club. Of course he wasn't wearing a mask, but his face was obscured by the shade, and Sean's own blurry vision.

At the man's side, sat two naked women, groping and playing with each other, absolutely doped out of their minds, and barely paying the man sitting between them any attention other than to climb over and around him. On the floor between the seats, was another set of nude woman scissoring each other. If Sean's vision was clear he would have noticed that it looked like neither of them wanted to be here.

The man spoke, and for all of Sean's hearing fading in and out, he could hear the man's voice as being pretty coherent.

"Well, looks like Sleeping Beauty's awake, welcome back to the Land of the living Mr. Diaz, and the Land of the Free." The man lights a cigarette, offering a pack to his "guests", who don't respond. "More for me then."

"Where- where are we ?" Sean asked, under his breath in a groggy voice, but this was no issue for the man.

"Cameron County, Texas, Mr. Diaz." The Man answers "We have a place set up here for you three for the time being, so please get comfortable." He gestures to the women scissoring on the floor before him, both looking on the verge of tears "Enjoy the entertainment."

Finn doubles over onto the floor in a coughing fit, and Cassidy sits down to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

Sean felt something on his lip, and when he touched it, he saw he was bleeding from the nose.

The Man continues speaking after taking another deep huff of his cig, blowing out a deep cloud of smoke as he once again addresses Sean once again.

"You've been enjoying this little vacation of yours for a while now Mr. Diaz, and unfortunately, I had to get off my tuchus, roll my way down to Mexico. And you know why ?"

Sean doesn't answer. He completely out of breath just by trying to sit up. The most he could do was shake his head.

"Favor for a friend." The man shrugs "My family, has made a lot of friends the past few years, and have taken to making deals with them." He casually flicks his cigarette onto the floor and stomps it out. "In your case, Mr. Diaz, you and your brother have made some new friends of mine angry with your actions the last few years. Dirty secrets unaired, reputations ruined, put everyone through over a year of drama, all over a couple of dead bodies. Well, myself and Mother's other children have been making deals with certain organizations, one of which has a special interest in getting your brother back into their loving hands, and you to pay for your sins against them."

"Daniel," Sean found his voice and found his protective big brother instinct kick in "I swear to God if you-"

"Relax, our boys in Beaver Creek haven't found anything of him...yet." The Man leans forward, the light showing just a bit more of his face as he glances down at Finn and Cassidy "As for your friends, I've been asking around and it appears your boy-toy has a bounty in Montana for skipping bails. As for your little girlfriend, her family have been missing her dearly; willing to pay just as dearly too. And frankly, I've been planning on getting a new car, so I could use an extra couple thousand in my pocket."

The man gets up and steps over the two women on the floor as he leers down at Sean "I'll tell you what, you got a nice little compound to yourself, keep you nice and safe and cozy, and we'll be sure to send you an update on Daniel, for every-" Just as he was saying this, they were all caught off guard as something slams into the front of the limo, causing everyone in the back to fall onto the floor.

Another slam, and they felt the limo spin and roll down a ravine, and into a shallow riverbank.

Sean's vision went blank.

When he came too again, he saw he was being hoisted from the river by both Finn and Cassidy. He saw the two women on the floor climbing up the river bank.  
He kept fading in and out, but as he faded back in, he would see blue flashing lights and a pair of dark cars.

Sean felt himself become weak in the knees, as he fell into the dirt beneath him.

\-----

It was finally daylight hours when Sean awoke again, although it was raining. The bright lights of the hospital room almost annoyed him, but he was used to it from the last time he was in the hospital like this.

Hopefully things will turn out a little better for him this time around, but he doubted it. He was back in the states after all. And as he felt his head spinning from disorientation, he saw he had company in the room.

It was a young woman, about his age give or take a few years. She wasn't dressed like one would expect; nothing to indicate she was a cop, FBI agent, but rather like she was an Agents of Shield cosplayer; she looked to be Asian which could bring to mind Melinda May, but really she brought someone else to Sean's mind.

"L-Lyla ?"

"Afraid not, sorry to disappoint." The woman answers. With Sean's vision clear, he was sure this wasn't Lyla.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew." Sean apologizes.

"It's cool." The woman says taking a seat beside his bed "You've been saying her name and the names of other people."

Sean looks over at his wrist. The last time he was in this situation, he had to wear a cuff to the bed until they were sure he was stable. To his curiosity, there was no cuff.

"I'm not arrested, am I ?"

"Should you be ?" The woman asks.

"Are you not a cop ?" Sean asks "I'm still a fugitive in these parts."

"Ah, must have escaped my notice when I was looking into your story. But you answer your question, no I'm not a cop. I'm not with the government either, so you can relax. I do want to ask and talk to you about what you've seen, but I don't want to freak you out until we're sure you are in stable condition." The woman answers "Your friends are alright by the way. You've only been out for two days, but your boyfriend and girlfriend are being treated in the next wing."

Sean's eyes widen "boyfriend and girlfriend" ? At least he knows they're okay, but he wanted to keep the exact nature of their relationship on the downlow. The woman notices Sean's shocked and concerned expression before she clarifies.

"Hey, you do you, kid. I'm not here to judge. Love is love, man." The woman awkwardly fakes a cough "In any case, they filled me in, and I think you may be more comfortable if we go with first names." The woman reaches her hand out to shake Sean's "Name's Emily."

Sean takes Emily's hand to shake it "Sean, although I guess you already knew that. Can I ask where we are ?"

"Denison, Texas. My people had this wing closed off, so you and your friends should be in safe. As far as everything's concerned, you are key witnesses to what happened in Puerto Lobos, and Cameron County, but I figure you could use a familiar face to help break things down for you." Emily turns her head to the door, and as if on cue, Finn opens it, dressed in a hospital gown.

"Hey there, wolf boy," Finn awkwardly smiles, carrying two bags of chips in one hand, and bottles of soda in his other arm as he walks up to the bag "I take it I missed you waking up, but I figured you could use a bite."

"Thanks, haven't eaten in days." Sean says, taking a bag and immediately digging in.

"I'll give you two some privacy," Emily says before correcting herself "Although this room is being monitored so the offer is a moot point." Emily says, getting up from her seat and heading out the door.

Finn smiles as he takes her seat "So you good enough to walk man ?"

"I think my bad eye is acting up, but other than that I'm feeling alright." Sean shrugs.

"We'll get a doc or nurse to look at that," Finn nods, but his smile flattens "But Sean, these people, I don't think they're any law enforcement I've heard about. They kept this wing cut off from the rest of the hospital and are asking and telling us things...like that Emily girl laid a lot on me and Cass when we woke up."

"What did she say ?"

Finn sighs, opens his soda and take a drink before saying "I don't know how else to say it, so I'm just gonna lay it all out for you," Finn inhales deeply before exhaling "Vampires exist, man."

This momentarily threw Sean off "W-what ?"

"Those things back in Mexico ? They were vampires." Finn said, raising one hand and another to emphasize his point.

Sean was at a loss for words, not that he didn't try to say something; he knew that something supernatural exists in this world, but never seriously considered their existence; back in the day he's heard many an urban legends of Skinwalkers, demonic possession; there were times he and Daniel used to jokingly look out for Bigfoot during their travels. He remembers the year before his dad died, at a Halloween party, he and the other played a game Ouija Board that supposedly contacted the Slenderman, and no one can could prove that was a prank.

Hell, Daniel's powers alone show Sean that there is something in this world beyond the mundane.

In short, Sean was thinking he probably shouldn't be too surprised.

Finn continues "Anyways, we were taken here by this group that have been hunting them, and they wanted to look us over; make sure none of us were bitten or anything, and they wanted to ask us questions when we come too. Luckily, everything checked out, and Cassidy hasn't had any complication-"

Finn stops himself before he finishes. Sean eyes him suspiciously.

"Finn, what were you saying about Cass ?" Sean asks.

"It's - not really my place to say. She wants to tell you herself." Finn says.

"Tell me what ?" Sean says, climbing out of bed, but finds himself unbalanced and sitting on the edge.

They are interrupted by the sound of a door knocking. Emily opens the door.

"Alright, I figure this is my cue to give you the rundown, but your girlfriend has been asking to see when you're up. You feeling up for it, kid ?" Emily asks.

Sean nods "How is she ? What's happening too her ?"

"She's fine, she just wants to see you. You need help standing or walking, or do you think you can manage ?"

Sean could manage to stand but it took him a bit to get used to using his legs.

\----

Sean and Finn walked down a mostly empty hall, mostly occupied by men and women, that like Emily, wouldn't be out of place in Agents of Shield with how they dressed. Cassidy's room was five doors down.

When Sean has Cassidy's door opened, she's sitting on her bed in a hospital gown of her own, casually reading a book. She turns to Sean, and a smile quickly forms on her face.

"There's my wolfman," Cassidy beams as she gets up from the bed to give Sean a great big bear hug "I've been worried about you." She says with a kiss on the cheek.

"I've been worried about you too, honey." Sean says, kissing her on the temple.

"So...vampires, huh ?" Cassidy says with an small smile.

"Yeah, I almost hoped it'd be zombies." Sean says with an chuckle of his own "All that video game training, wasted."

"Chris Redfield would be disappointed." Finn adds jokingly, shaking his head while patting Sean on the shoulder, with Cassidy reaching her hand up to touch Finn's. Sean added his own hand in the equation as they held each others hands.

"So..." Sean finally speaks before "Finn's been saying you want to tell me something ? Are you okay ? Like you haven't been...bitten or anything, have you ?"

Cassidy shakes her head with an awkward smile "No, nothing like that...but, you know how I have been sick for a while now ?"

"Yeah ?" Sean says, but the infliction in his voice made it sound like he was asking a question "Is- is it bad, Cass ?"

Cassidy glances to the side nervously, complete with a bite on her lower lip, not exactly able to find the words. Luckily actions speak louder than words.

Cassidy takes Sean's hand out of Finn's and off his shoulder, and begins to guide it down downwards...and placing it on her stomach.

For one of many instances in his life, Sean felt his world stop. A billion things have been going though his head at once. He thought he hit a speedbump at the discovery that he was back in the states, that vampires existed, and now Cassidy was telling him this!

Cassidy guided her hand upwards, placing it on Sean's cheek; a sad smile forms on her face as she presses her forehead to Sean's.

"Three weeks Sean," Cassidy said "remember when I was acting up, and you and Finn took that trip ? Well, I guess we know why I was sick that weekend."

"H-how did this happen ?" Sean finally found his voice.

"You were there, remember ?" Cassidy smiles "I missed my monthly visitor last week, and I had my suspicions, but I didn't know until the docs here told me."

"So, uh..." Finn starts "What- what do you think Sean ?"

Sean took a deep gulp before snakingly asking "Do...are you planning on keeping it ?"

Cassidy looks down, before saying with a shaky voice of her own "I- I don't know yet. I just wanted you to know, because I think you should have a say, Sean. I found out myself, and I still don't know what to make of this...but I just want to know, that whatever happens, you will be there, for me."

Sean looks down and after a moment of thinking, presses his hand back on Cassidy's stomach.

"I'm not leaving your side, Cass. Not after this, and not after what we just been through." Sean says, taking Cassidy into a hug "We're going to figure this out together." Sean looks over his shoulder at Finn "All of us."

Finn smiles with a pat on Sean's back "I've always got your back, Sean, and you Cass. I never ditched the two of you and I don't intend to start now, but..."

"But what ?" Cassidy asks.

"What about Uncle Daniel ?" Finn asks "We still haven't heard from him, and if that masked guy says is any indication, we aren't the only ones looking for him..."

"Not that I want to interrupt this bittersweet family moment, but there's something we've been meaning to talk to you about." The trio turn around to see Emily leaning at the doorway, having blown and popped a bubble from gum she was chewing.

\----

Shortly afterwards, Sean, Finn and Cassidy where sat down for questioning by Emily and two other "guards" as they called themselves.

"So here's the rundown," Emily explains "The official story - the one we are going to have the police and feds believe - is that you three are key witnesses to our ongoing investigation of sex crime syndicate; this is the half the truth." Emily starts.

Another speaks up "The people we are looking for, are in fact part of a crime family, involved in the three big bad trafficking ops; sex, drugs and weapons. We were trying to make an arrest that night we found you, but the man we were looking for got away in the confusion. So for now, you're in protective custody. Any questions ?" The other one, a young man named Michael asks.

Sean raises his hand this time "Does anyone on your team have anything on Beaver Creek ?"

"Not our team specifically," Emily says "But we have some friends of ours looking into it."

"What exactly happened there anyways ?" Cassidy asks "It's just that's where his brother lives."

"There's...been an incident. Like I said, our friends are looking into it." Michael says.

"What do you know so far ?" Sean asks.

"You seen what happened in Puerto Lobos, right?" Emily says.

"Oh no," Sean says dreading the answer.

"There is a Daniel Diaz on the missing persons list. An Agent Flores is looking into his disappearance, but she's been also asking to speak to you once you're checked out." Emily says.

Sean immediately gets from the bed and hastily walks to the bag of clothes, but Michael puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Whoa whoa, easy tiger!" Michael says "I can understand what you're going through, but you just can't run off like that."

"My brother is missing and could be dead, you do not want to make this situation worse!" Sean says angrily.

"And neither do you, which is why you are not going to run away again." Michael says taking Sean by both his shoulders and forcibly sitting him back down onto the bed.  
A combination of fear, anxiety and washed over Sean at once, but ultimately the former two outweighed the latter, and he slumped down onto the bed with a shaky sigh.

"I just can't leave him," Sean shakes his head "I can't loose him again."

"I can understand that, but Sean, we already took risks making sure you can be trusted. You run away now, and another manhunt will start for you." Michael says "Look kid, I get it. Bout five years back, when I thought my girlfriend was killed, there was nothing I wouldn't have done to make sure she was safe or alive. I've been were you are, and I would have done anything to have the choice we're about to give you."

"What's that ?" Sean ask.

This time Emily speaks up "After some friends and I learned the hard way that monsters exist, these people started following us. Turn out where there's monsters, there are hunters. We were put into protective custody after another incident, and to make a long, long story short, a few of us ended up being monster hunters ourselves."

It takes a moment for this to sink in to Sean before he asks "So, what, we sign some papers and then we become hunters too ?"

"Not all of you," Emily shakes her head "Firstly, you don't have the same training or experience as us. Second, we can't recruit her considering her present condition, so she'd be under protective custody as well." she adds jabbing a thumb at Cassidy.

"Think of it like this," Michael starts "We worked our way into being Marines, while you guys are still at Cub Scout level. The rundown is you can go to places we are investigating, even help out, but going into the line of fire is inadvisable."

Sean shakes his head "Don't you think the police are going to be a problem for us ?"

"Not too much," Emily states "They know of the cover story, that you three are key witnesses to a sex crime, and going over your file, there is reasonable doubt that you killed that cop way back when. They'll priotitize you as a witness over everything else. You should be fine, even if it is thin ice."

As she was saying this Mike took out three contracts, placing them in Sean and Finn's hand.

"This is the only way ?" Sean asks.

"The only legally flexible way." Michael nods.

"If that's what it takes to find our wolf cub." Finn nods, before signing his way through the contract he's been given.

Looking over, Sean sighs with a nod of his own.

"If that's what it takes."

And with that, Sean signs.

\----

And that is how, Sean, Finn and Cassidy found themselves in Seattle.

Now members of the American Guard, as they call themselves, they were granted two safe houses; one in Seattle itself, the other in Pierce County.

It was probably not a good idea to settle into the city first. As they made their way up the driveway, they noticed a few neighbors eyeing them suspiciously. It wasn't the same house Sean, Daniel and their dad lived in, but it was around the same neighborhood.

Needless to say, it was a long couple of days to get back on their feet. Ostensibly, Sean was a free man, but he knew what he really was; a dog on a leash. He made phone calls to Agent Flores, once again for transparency.

He learned that the cover story was accepted, and that he and his "housemates" were witnesses to a sex ring. Flores expressed concern as Daniel being a witness to other illegal activity is what's believed to have triggered the Beaver Creek incident.

Sean's first order of business to find out what he could about what happened in Beaver Creek, but truth be told, he was tired after everything that's happened the past four days. The work would begin tomorrow. In the meantime, Sean called Lyla to fill her in on what's happening, but only told her half the truth. He figured she wasn't ready for the truth about vampires or how he and Finn joined an organization of hunters.

That night, it was Finn's turn to cook, and Sean usually found himself glued to Cassidy's side, especially in light of recent news. He joined her in the shower while Finn was prepping supper. Nothing sexual happened there, but Sean found himself singing with Cassidy, as they usually did in the shower ("Take me home, country roads, to the place, I belong")

And covered Sean's first night home.

\----

Elsewhere in Seattle.

Late in the evening, a two year old makes his way up a hallway to his mothers bedroom, carrying with him, a stuffed white rabbit named Alice.

As he started knocking, his mother expectedly opens.

"Another nightmare, Bill ?" the woman asks patiently.

The child, Bill, nods.

"Alright you little stinker," the woman smiles warmly picking her son up "Mama Bear's got you,"

Bill cutely buries his head in her shoulder, mumbling "It was that same man."

This made his mother freeze a little, as she carried him into her bed.

"Is that so ?" she asks, tucking him in his usual spot, where he would sleep between his two moms "And what was he doing this time ?"

"Fighting someone," Bill mutters "He still had that sword, but he was fighting another man with a sword." He pretends to clang his fingers together in a matter similar to a sword fight.

"Ah, I see." His mother says, climbing into bed and cuddling up to him "Who was winning ?"

"They both stabbed each other." Bill answers.

"Did he look at you again ?"

"They both saw me, but kept fighting." Bill says.

"Did they try to hurt you ?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"Well the important thing is, you are okay." His mother says, nuzzling her nose to his "And when you wake up tomorrow, you'll be okay too."

"Promise ?"

"Of course. I'm a mom of my word." She says before kissing him on his forehead.

With that, Mama Bear's little cub nuzzled his way to sleep. But true to the moniker of Mama Bear, his mother was still roused from her sons troubles.

Looking over at the clock, it read 9:02 PM.  
Max's nightshift should be up by now. Hopefully she's on her way to the car and not home.

Chloe steps out to go to the bathroom, making sure not to wake Bill up, and she takes her phone off the charger.  
Calling Max's number she was quickly answered.

"Hey, Chlo, what's up ?"

"The sky, the stars, the sun, the roof and the moon." Chloe answers "I didn't call on a bad time, did I ?"

"I'm just driving. You have me on speaker." Max says.

"Bill's been having a bad dream again, just letting you know in advance." Chloe says.

"Oh no," Max sighs "How bad was it ?"

"Not as bad as that Red Wedding one he had the other night," Chloe says, looking into the mirror "Says that same man is in it though."

"He hasn't been out that much, does he know who it is this time ?" Max asks.

"If he does, he doesn't say." Chloe shakes her head "I don't understand; he rested like an angel at his aunts," she pauses before she asks cautiously "You don't think we're haunted, do you ?"

"Chloe, not this again; that painting was a gift from my mom. It's not staring at you." Max says with a sigh.

"I swear I saw it blink!" Chloe says "Anyways, what I'm saying is we're going to have to talk to Bill about this tomorrow his dreams tomorrow; it can't be good for the kid to have this many nightmares in a row. Especially about...what he's been talking about."

"Think we should see Dr. Collins again ?" Max asks.

"If all else fails I guess," Chloe shrugs "See you when you get home."

"See you then." Max says as the call ends.

In the mean time, Bill Caufield Price was back in dreamland.

Yet again, he was watching decades worth of stories being told; he saw King Arthur claim Excalibur, the knights are his round table, the drama of Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere. The addition of vampires, and werewolves, was not part of any stories of Arthur he'd learn of in school, and yet they were ever present in his dreams

And finally, he was once again seeing Mordred's conception, birth, how he grew into his usurpation and duel with Arthur. All the while, the voice of the Blood Queen sang/chanted (" ** _Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, only to me_** ").

At least this time, when Bill woke up, he was snuggled between Chloe and Max; the latter's arms wrapped around him, holding him to her chest. Chloe's smile could be heard as she greeted Bill's awakening.

"See ? I told you you'd be alright."


	5. Route B: First Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much like the previous chapter, this chapter marks the introductions for Sean and Max in this story. Unlike the previous chapter, this is set in a "Route" where "Sacrifice Chloe" and the "Redemption" ending of LiS 2 are considered canon, and will be the first of the Route B chapters.
> 
> That being said, there is specific information I include in this chapter that will still be considered canon to the "Route A", such as details of Mark Jefferson's past, activates with Nathan, his time in prison, as well as something that happens within the prison he's sent too. Another aspect that's still considered Canon to Route A is the details of the investigation against the Diaz brothers, only this time Sean was landed in jail. There's also a Canon Divergence which discounts the epilogue of the "Redemption" ending.
> 
> "Vampyr", and the "Life is Strange" series are owned by DONTNOD, in addition to SquareEnix, Focus Group Entertainment and Deck9. I also feature references and cameos of "Until Dawn", property of Supermassive Games; "Control" property of Remedy; and various Rockstar Properties. These properties belong to their respective owners. I own nothing but this story and OC's within it.

**March, 2020**

"Alright Diaz, your up. Knock em dead."

"Or don't, you be in for more time."

That was about the two things the guard said to Sean as they led him down a long hallway and towards a pair of doors.

Sean could say everyone was disappointed in this scenario.

Even he was mildly disappointed by his time inside. While prison was no picnic, he could count his blessings he wasn't being raped and beaten on the daily...such attacks were more of a monthly thing, and even then they didn't go beyond threats.

At least when he finds himself crying himself to sleep, he isn't the only one.

On the upside this was the latest of three meetings he was to attend so as to get time off his sentence.

Over the trial, Sean learned more about the investigation of Officer Matthews death, and just what he was being pinned for. There was even some media coverage, he saw or overheard.

It was quite bizarre just how there was a feeling of _want_ in the air; it was as if they _needed_ Sean to kill Officer Matthews to fit the narrative they built up. If that wasn't the case they were just punishing a second hand victim of police brutality, and by golly, that would just look terrible. But alas, the investigation found nothing to officially tie Sean or Daniel as being Matthews killers. Forensics, it does wonders. So what did detractors get ? A wave of _disappointment_ that flowed in the air when Sean and Daniel were shown to be not guilty in Matthews death.

Goodbye simplistic Cop Killer narrative. Hello a more complicated investigation on the brothers and what happened that day.

It's the everything else Sean was being pinned for. Repeatedly running away from law enforcement, assault on Brett Foster, the fire at Fischer's church (in which Sean was made to be an accomplice) and that showdown at the border. Of course, the statements Sean made to the border patrol and Agent Flores where used to against him.

Anything to get Sean inside.

Due to all the holes in the narrative, and lack of actual witnesses, Officer Matthews death was a inconclusive investigation. As a result Sean gets fifteen years for the comparatively minimal charges.

To Sean's curiosity, Brett Foster was also briefly considered a suspect, due to character witnesses being brought in for both the Diaz brothers and Brett, especially as the primary witness to the incident and by all accounts an instigator.

This was the result of a "He Said, He Said" narrative and character witnesses.

Sean knew Brett wasn't a killer and never made such claims, but he did note how defensive the same media coverage was for Brett when they were quick to condemn him. Brett was characterized by witnesses as more of a trouble maker than Sean. Sure, he was a Cub Scout as a kid, but a little digging shown he was kicked out for killing a squirrel. The short version is a known racist, abelist student, with a sordid social life, who was caught twice peeping in the girls locker room, wasn't exactly the victim he was initially paraded around to be.

A look into his home life and the discovery of fireworks in his closet, and the only reason Brett wasn't seriously considered a suspect was the lack of gunpowder or residue found on the scene. You could almost hear certain media outlets collectively sigh in _relief_.

And so Sean was back to being the scapegoat. A convenient perp who needed to be made an example of...

\----

To quote this country song Cassidy sang to him, Sean's been here for two long years, and he finally made the Warden his friend. Unlike the convict in the song, he didn't have to take care of any dogs.

Sean got Warden Ashton's attention when Sean was assigned to clean his office. Under watch of course. It was a three hour job, but two of those were spent having talks.  
Ashton was a man with two kids and an ex wife. They're still friends, but Ashton put his focus in the job, and aimed to rehabilitate young convicts, such as Sean.

"I notice you've been carrying that book of yours, care to tell me what it's about ?" The Warden brings up while offering Sean a cigarette.

"It's just drawings." Sean answers as he finishes polishing off the officer chairs legs.

"Of what ?"

"Nothing important." Sean says dismissively.

"Must be important for you to carry this around all the time." Ashton crushes the cigarette under his shoe.

Sean sighs, wagering he's probably going to get frisked about it. He recalls being checked for drugs three times since he got in here, and having his cell searched. If the Warden wanted to see stuff, he would. Rolling his eyes, Sean nods "Sure, give it a look. Free country and all that."

While Sean was busy cleaning through the windows, Ashton spoke again; "You know, you've got an eye for details and story telling, anyone ever tell you that kid ?"

"I was ahead of my class in art and English," Sean nods "Look, I know what you're gonna say - _It's a wasted talent kid! You could of been a great artist but instead_ -" Sean starts before he is interrupted.

"First off, I don't sound _that_ much like Colonel Sanders," Ashton says handing the journal back "Secondly, you do have genuine talent, and contrary to what others might tell you, you still got a shot." Ashton takes his seat and leans back "Anyone tell you about our arts program ?"

"I...no, I never really talk that much to others."

"It's what we use to help rehabilitate. Should be right up your alley. Your put your work out there, you can make a better name for yourself."

Sean scoffs a little and sets aside the rag he's been using "Not from in here though, right ?"

"No, from in here." Ashton says "Do you know how many books have been written in prison ? You've got Oscar Wilde, Nelson Mandela, Adolf- okay, he might not be the best example. Point is, you learn to utilize your talents more, you can make use of your time while doing time."

"You really think so ?" Sean asks.

"I know it. Hell, one inmate here was a teacher...of course we don't let him around the other inmates, but that's a whole other story all together." Ashton shrugs "Tell you what, I get you into that program, you play ball, and I might put in a good word for you in the next hearing."

This caught Sean off guard "Ex-excuse me ?"

"Come now Sean, even a guy like me knows a decent kid with a talent like yours shouldn't be in a cage for something there was no evidence of what he did or didn't do. Truth be told, if it were up to me, half the young people in here would be out quicker."

\----  
 _Sean sat down for this fourth hearing since he's been locked up, but this was a new place, and new people addressing him. Those he never met since the day before._

_"Now Mr. Diaz, we have been told about the progress you've been making. Congrats on getting that book out there by the way."_

_"Thanks," Sean says, knowing not to talk too much or too friendly with someone new in office._

_"Care to elaborate how you've been treated in there ? We just wish to know if this was a safe environment for you."_

\----

In the time he's been in here, he hasn't really made any real friends.

There's been friendly faces, and not so friendly faces.

Sean knew to avoid the bald guys with tattoos. To be honest he felt more at home with the colored youths in here; no doubt also thrown in on trumped up charges.

Sean's friends would visit him almost every month. Each week, Sean would get a letter form Daniel, or be allowed to call him. Sometimes it would be Lyla, sometimes it would be Karen, Finn, Cassidy, Jacob.

Sean only made the request that they not bring Daniel here too much during visits. Sean didn't want him to see him like this. When Daniel first heard the news, there was a weeks long period he didn't write.

Sean was able to catch up with what's happening in Beaver Creek; Sean has been allowed to read up on the news outside and between that and the regular correspondences with his people, which gave him a good picture of what was happening.

Agent Flores was put in charge at monitoring Daniel for the time being. Daniel, says he overheard a mention that it wasn't just the FBI looking at him, but something called "The Foundation". Sean was sure he misread something about anomalies, but the subject was quickly changed.

From what he's gathered, Daniel has revealed a lot in his testimony when he was put through the legal system; going into details of Lisbeth Fischer's compound there has been no concrete evidence of illegal activity, aside from an under the books attempt at adopting Daniel, but she was all but exposed as a fraud. Along with Jacob, Daniel was essential in the FBI looking into the questionable activity of Lisbeth herself, her church and her staff.

Unfortunately, like many good sheep of the kind, the lot of her followers stayed at Lisbeth's side. There is noise that the FBI are investigating her further, and while there's no warrant for her arrest, time will tell. Sean's been following that case because of how personal it was to Daniel and Jacob, and he learned that a few witnesses and even FBI agents, ended up missing over the last week and that Fischer has taken to isolating her community. Nothing significantly happened yet and as far as he knows FBI investigation is still ongoing, so it's only a matter of time.

At this point, Daniel's ties to Officer Matthew's death was all but forgotten. Now, the government was more interested in what he's been through, over what he did.

Daniel also spoke about Hank Stamper's assault and kidnapping of Sean, which got the Stamper's investigated; a local family by admitted to seeing Hank dragging an unconscious Sean when they pulled in at the station, and saw Daniel flee the scene. They didn't say anything at the time as they knew Hank and took his word when he explained himself, which led to the Flores questioning the Stampers. When questioned with this information, Doris Stamper folded pretty quickly and ended up confessing to what her husband did.

Ultimately, Hank wasn't going to see jailtime, aside from wearing an ankle bracelet of his own, and two years parole; when news got out, there's been instances where the Stamper's receiving harassment over the incident; on top of that lawsuit the Reynolds family put them through, it was hardly a smack on the wrist.

In the meantime, Sean has been able to write and get a book published; it was a young adult graphic novel, about a pair of wolf brothers going across the country when their father was killed by a hunter, who was struck by lightning. The comic gained a large cult following, although some may criticize it for how on the nose it's political issues and unsubtle it's themes of racism, homo/biphobia and religious fraud are.

Some may say the older wolf's unfortunate encounter with a pair of sheepdogs didn't contribute much to the story and felt like it was only there for shock value.

Other than that, Sean was able to make a sizable fortune within prison, despite not having any access to the money himself. And on top of that, Sean has received hundreds of fan letters over the past seven months.

As for Sean's people on the outside, his friend Lyla was also running a podcast on social justice, and has been one of his many liaisons to his old life and through social media.  
His other liaisons include, the Heckerman siblings, Jacob and Sarah Lee, who have settled in Beaver Creek, and for a while spent time in the Reynolds house. From what Sean heard, Sarah Lee, Daniel and Chris are as thick as thieves. So far Jacob has been fitting in with Beaver Creek, and has become a friend of the family, and got a job at a grocery store. He tells Sean that Claire has been helping him come to terms with his faith, while Finn was helping him come to terms with his sexuality whenever Finn went.

Ever since their time at Merrill's camp, Sean, Finn and Cassidy became a tight nit. Being Sean's first and current serious girlfriend and the woman he lost his virginity to would do that, Cassidy was a frequent letter sender, as well as pictures of what she and Finn have been up to. Some of the pictures sent were for Sean's eyes only.

A lot of the letters came from both Cass and Finn, and considering how they tend to blur, quite a few of Sean's friends on the inside teased him about having two prizes at once.  
Not helping is that when one said so in Finn's earshot, Finn parted ways from that visit with an open mouth kiss to Sean, that got a few hoops and hollers from surrounding inmates. And a few unwanted looks and comments.

After a while, it became something a running joke among staff and inmates of whether Sean's "girlfriend" or "boyfriend" would be the one to pay him a visit over the last four months.

A couple weeks back, it was Cassidy, and which ended up being an extended conjugal visit visit. A "congratulations" by the prison staff for Sean getting his graphic novel published.

\-----

_Back in this new office, these new people continue their lines of questions._

_"Ah, it's good to see you're making a name for yourself out there, and have something to look forward to when you get out."_

_"Like I said, thanks." Sean nods awkwardly._

_"And we've been told you were making outstanding progress, but I still have concerns; surely there was bad times on the inside, where they not. You've never been assaulted ? Harassed ? Was there any inmates that you didn't get along with ?"_

_Sean sighs "Now that you mentioned it, is...he alright ?"_

\----

As stated, you can get along just fine in prison when you know who to avoid.

Sean hasn't made that many friends in the past two years, and kept to himself mostly. He's gotten a better reputation in the pen when he was writing his comic, and got it published.

Suddenly some of the same thugs who were sending him taunts and death threats when he first got here, where now giving him congratulations and pats on the back.

One thing Sean learned while in here was how you were treated in prison depends on the severity of the crime you were accused off. And the kind of person you were on the outside.

For example, if you are a genuine cop killer, you get beaten almost on the reg by the guards over the smallest slip, when they aren't giving you the stink eye. The guards are more likely to look away if/when you are beaten and/or raped by the other inmates, and more than likely to beat the ever loving snot out of you just to try to frisk you.

About four months into his sentence, and they got new meat in the form of Murray Thompson; a drug dealer who executed a rookie beat cop in cold blood, for taking too long to bribe, in accordance to a deal he made with dirty cops in the neighborhood. Needless to say the deal was broken and Thompson was sent up the creek in a matter of weeks. Months later, Sean was taken out of his cell, and made to watch while armed guards beat Thompson to pulp over what turned out to be sneaking an orange in his cell. He remembered this one guard, Vinny, made Sean face him and told Sean "Count yourself real lucky kid, this could have been you." Thompson ended up getting permanent brain damage from the beat down, and Sean didn't speak to anyone for weeks after that.

More of the "friendly faces" Sean met where from African American and Hispanic ones, as some of the ones who were involved with street crime where easy protection against the few skin heads who also turned up here. A few of the skinheads where murdered by other inmates over the past two years, so Sean having to deal with racist white prisoners became low on the totem poll. Then you've got passive white prisoners, who prefer not getting involved in any potential race war, and when they do, they get signaled out by either side for taking "the wrong side".

It did not distract that some of the "gangs" formed in prison are largely made from genuine thugs, drug dealers, pimps. It was more of the same inside than outside. A lot of colored youth who end up here were mostly just kids who got in over their head, and yet they turn to these gangs as a form of protection against White Supremisist prisoners, who would get really excited when a person of color under 18 was taken in. Sean was no different.

Sean remembers this one black kid, Eddie Stone; the year before, Eddie got in for stealing a car and that ended in an accident resulting in the death of an elderly woman, in front of her grandkids no less! One of whom ended up hospitalized. Even with how horrible it was, it was one of many instances where Sean had to hear a heartbreaking story about a kid who got his life ruined over being stupid, especially with how scared and remorseful Eddie seemed the few times he met him. About six weeks into his sentence, and six weeks of being physically assaulted, Eddie was put on suicide watch and solitary confinement for an attempt he made.

Another thing of note was the stories of rapists and pedophiles who end up in prison, they were true. Prisoners had an understandable, if arbitrary, code of honor and morals.  
A while back, this guy Carter Reece was brought in here for the rape and murder of two young sisters - eleven and fourteen years of age respectively; it got a swift call for justice in todays political climate - middle aged white guy committing something so deplorable to two black girls. The hammer came down and he got no possibly of parole for twenty five years.

A few nights off suicide watch, Reece and Sean had a second hand encounter. The other inmates took Sean from his cell, along with the other youth in here, and they were made to watch as the older boys took their turns with Reece; this little mob was led by an older man named Willis - a cool guy, once you get past the fact he's a pimp doing time for beating one of his girls half to death - Willis had Reece beaten until he couldn't move, before having someone give Reece a penectomy with a broken piece of glass. Even the White Superemisists turned a blind eye to that.

Sean was one of many prisoners interrogated over the instance, asking where he was that night. Sean didn't say anything but he was let go; it was around the time Sean made a book deal, and they didn't want to throw him off track as he was making progress.

And speaking of art class, it was around here that Sean met that one prisoner, who really stood out to him...

\----  
"You look like you need more shades."

"Hmm ?" Sean asked looking up from his table, to see the prisoner in question. Looks to be around his age, but about a few years older.

"I said you could use more shades; that red is gonna look too pink for blood. You could use something darker; make it look more real." He says, taking several dark shades of red from his own notebook, placing them down on the table. The guy, as if he's been friends with Sean for years, takes a seat at the side of their table.

It was part of their art program.

Under watch of four guards, two inmates where given a room to work on pieces of art they were making.

In Sean's case, he was finishing up and illustrating his drawings, and even writing out some notes. It is the initial draft of the comic, and he was able to make outside connections for those interested in his work.

Sean and the other inmate where working on their respective pieces. The other guys drawings where of a high school like setting.

The next few minutes was filled with an awkward silence that the other inmate decided to break.

"So Mac ? What are you in for ?"

Sean looks over awkwardly before stating "A whole lot of bullshit."

"That can mean two things, y'know; either you did a whole lot of bullshit, or you're here on a lot of bullshit charges. Which is it ?"

Sean takes a moment to think before he answers "I did a lot of things that got me in here, but I didn't do what they wanted me for."

"Something like that comes with a story. C'mon, just a couple of us guys, and guards, in here. Silence get's boring in here." The other boy turns his head over the shoulder and waves politely at the unamused guards.

Sighing, Sean, albeit reluctantly, goes over the story. Or a Wikipedia summary of his story - he of course omitted the part about Daniel having powers though, but the other guy caught on pretty quick.

"Wait, I know this story; you're Sean Diaz, aren't you ?"

Sean reluctantly nods before asking "You know me ?"

"Your case caught a lot of attention, as did mine."

Sean sets the drawings aside to get a good look at the other inmate "I take it you got a story too ?"

"It's...it's nothing much. I just shot a girl." The older boy puts his own drawings aside before looking into Sean's face "And a few other things".

"Well...don't leave me hanging."

The older boy started his story, of how he was considered the undisputed "king" of his school, and his dad practically bought out the town when they moved in. The older boy stops to chuckle as he realizes something "I'm sorry. It's just, my dad's named Sean too."

Sean shrugs "You have one, don't rub it in."

"Sorry, sorry. Just something I thought was funny." the older boy shrugs "Name's Nathan by the way. Nathan Prescott." Nathan extends his hand to shake Sean's, but Sean sort of crossed his arms and shrank away.

"I know who you are. I heard you were in here, but I didn't think I'd actually meet you." Sean says, eyeing him suspiciously "I met that girl's dad back in the day...I sometimes hear from him too. He didn't exactly say good things about you..."

"I get it man, I do. But it's like I've been saying, I didn't want her to die. I didn't want anyone to die." Nathan sighs.

"I'm listening."

To make Nathan's summary of his trial short...there was no way to make it short.

His shooting and slaying of Chloe Price was chalked up to manslaughter. If his dad were to pull his dirty tricks, he wouldn't be in jail at all. Unfortunately, for the Prescott Family, it wasn't just the local police, those in his pocket, who were interested in the investigation.

Nathan had this mentor, Jefferson, who got arrested following Nathan's own arrest. Jefferson's own photography exploits have been going on for a while, albeit not as far as he could have gone without the Dark Room.

From towns neighboring the Arcadia Bay County, over the course of 2011 to 2013 there were seven _reported_ kidnappings, not too different to the abductions that happened within the Arcadia Bay County, such as Beaver Creek. Out of them five where under the suspicion of being sexual assault cases, and the two others were bodies found in a lake.  
When that is when the State Troopers got involved, and a look into the Dark Room's photo albums confirmed their suspicions.

"You killed them." Sean says stoically, "You and your teacher."

"Like I said, I didn't want them to die." Nathan vehemently insists "Mark, he- had this way of getting into my head. When screw ups like that happened, he put the blame on me-"  
"But it was your fault. You could have at least tried to stop him-"

"What could I do ?!" Nathan snaps getting up from he's seat before he notices the guards eyeing him "Sorry." Nathan breaths out before taking his seat "Look, I don't expect you to understand or forgive me or anything, but I heard your story. Least you can do is hear me out."

Sean sighs and briefly looks away "I guess. You kind of took me out of my writing at the moment."

As Nathan went on, he explained how Jefferson was smart and a little experienced. It wasn't just Arcadia Bay he was operating in, and it wasn't just his students who were victimized. An operation such as the Dark Room would have drawn too much attention if it only amounted to victims from the same town and the same school. So once in a blue moon, Jefferson would have Nathan scout out in neighboring towns and other school parties. Out of the seven victims reported from out of tonw, twenty five unreported victims were uncovered with the Dark Room.

Usually, Jefferson would have Nathan pick up girls from the wrong side of the tracks, those whom no one would notice or care about if reported.

Chloe Price, the girl Nathan ended up shooting, was once such attempted victim, but Nathan gave her too small of a dose. Nathan ended up dropping her off, and that's what lead to the confrontation in the bathroom.

Over the summer of 2013, these people from out of town reached out to Nathan and Jefferson, and suddenly Nathan had the chance to hire high level escorts to take part in their operations. Nathan didn't know who, how, or why, but Jefferson wasn't as pleased with the results, so that was cut from their plans.

"Wait you mean to tell me, other people knew ?" Sean interrupts.

"Someone had too," Nathan insists "Mark gave me an earful about getting Escort agencies involved. Would bring too much unwanted attention he says, how they are too easy. All that noise." Nathan sighs again. "Anyways it was around that time the Feds got involved."

Had it stayed within the confines of Arcadia Bay, this whole Dark Room mess would have been swept under the rug; Jefferson would be thrown under the bus and Nathan would be a free man.

A little looking into in Jefferson's background, it was discovered he was a person of interest (but not a suspect) of a cold case back in 2008; four bodies found buried in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey, each having been tortured and/or drugged to death. One of them was a girlfriend of Jefferson, who he himself reported missing. In 2010, two bodies found in similar condition within the Pacific Northwest; at the time there was no direct ties to Jefferson, other than one was the sister of a girl he was tutoring.

When the Feds swooped in, they began digging around in not just Jefferson's business, but that of the Prescott's. And when the Prescott family tried to buy out the Feds, that only made them more interested in discovering the extent of Sean Prescott's involvement.

This was unfortunately, how Nathan Prescott discovered he had an infant half brother he wasn't supposed to know about, and now could never meet. It turns out one of Sean Prescott's dirty businesses was with a girl from out of town, old enough to be one of his daughters friends (in fact, may of well have been); she received a monthly check for her silence. When word of the Dark Room got out, so did her word, and unfortunately that towns police force wasn't on the Prescott pay roll.

And just like that, any attempt by Sean Prescott to control the narrative or investigation went down the shitter. When Prescott Sr. was sent up the river for those charges, Nathan was left vulnerable.

It wasn't that bad actually; the first few weeks helped Nathan clear his head. He got a court mandated psychiatrist, was heavily medicated, and was out of his two abusers influences. He even fired the lawyer his family hired for him at his therapists advise.

One of the first things Nathan was told was he should own up to what he did and not let his dad or Jefferson control him. Sure his family tried to get him out of trouble, even give him certain privilege's. The most they could do is arrange multiple parole hearings from 2016 onward. It was almost a constant that they would want to know how Nathan progressed, and of course Nathan would do what he could to avoid that.

It was only in here Nathan could be free of other people influencing him. And even then the Prescott name saved him from some shit; Nathan couldn't keep out of how when ever an inmate would threaten him or give him grief, how they'd get beaten by the guards, but whenever Nathan acts out he'd at most be put in his cell for a day. A cell that had a TV in it no less.

In one such instance, Nathan stabbed a man for making unflattering comments towards him, just before a parole hearing. Just like that Nathan had another two months till the next hearing.

"This Jefferson guy," Sean asks "You ever find out what happened to him ?"

"Last I heard he's either here or somewhere else up state." Nathan shakes his head "Been told he got what other guys like him get."

In other words, Jefferson's prison wasn't identified, but due to his own little bit of fame and influence, he ended up isolated from other inmates for his protection; according to some, he got his own cell bock to himself, including a library and his own shower room. The kind of pampered imprisonment Nathan was almost subjected too. There's some suspicion that Jefferson is being held in the same prison, due to there being a cellblock that's off limits to the other inmates.

"See, the reason Mark wouldn't be out and about has less to do with what we did, but more that if he was he'd go out the way of Scar." Nathan explains.

"Who ?" Sean asks.

"You know, from _The Lion King_ ?"

"Ah, it's been a while." Sean nods "Was thinking about checking out the remake if I get out-"

"Don't." Nathan says firmly "Trust me, you aren't missing anything. Just watch the first one."

This got a genuine laugh from the two prisoners.

"What about you, Diaz ? You got a hearing coming up ?" Nathan asks.

"Not for another six months." Sean shakes his head "But you know, progress and good behavior, all that noise. We'll see what happens I guess."

Sean and Nathan met like this again, and again. The reason Nathan spent a lot of time in the art program, was mainly due to nostalgia. The two were not exactly friends, nor could they really say they liked each other. But they did appreciate having someone to talk too, and considering their differing backgrounds, it brought about no end of Shawshank Redemption jokes between them.

Over time, Sean even let Nathan read some of his drafts; Nathan was also the first person who got that Sean's wolf brother story was supposed to be his own story.

"You ever try writing ?" Sean would ask.

"I tried, but after a while I kept getting writers block." Nathan said going over Sean's draft "I wasn't exactly the most creative guy in the academy." As Nathan continues going through the draft, he keeps making notes "You know, I never thought there'd be that much politics in the animal kingdom."

"How so ?"

"Like," Nathan starts "I get what your going for, but I keep expecting to see Elephants and Donkeys to start showing up, if you know what I mean."

"Ah," Sean says "Well I just write what I know."

"That sheepdog scene though," Nathan noticeably shudders and cringes "Does that really have to be here ? It feels like the story could do without it."

Sean himself quivers a bit as he thinks back to it "Yeah, it- it wasn't a picnic for me either." He decides to change the subject "How you liking it so far ?"

"Well, the parts with the racoon are cute," Nathan nods "Also that romance with the hounds; which one does the wolf end up with ? Just curious is all."

"I don't know." Sean answers, as he starts looking over his own drawings "Sometime I wonder if I should take the story in different directions; see what the wolf could have done different, y'know ?"

By the time the comic was published, Nathan was one of the first to congratulate Sean, giving him a wine bottle that the prison would let Nathan get away with owning.

\----  
 _"Well, it looks like you made at least one friend, Sean." The new speaker says "Shame what happened to him though."_

_"Is he alright though ? What really happened to him, I have to know." Sean asks._

_"Mr. Diaz, Nathan Prescott bled out in the medical ward after recovered him. We're still prepping an autopsy given the state he was in before death."_

\----

About four days ago, it was time for another visit. A conjugal one, of course. After a month when his book was released, Sean has been granted a number of them, that they happen almost weekly. Extended visits too.

There was limitations of course, as this was a temporary thing that would only last a few months. Nathan of course claimed to have used what pull he had to grant Sean these visitations.

This time it was Finn and Cassidy showing up and they were granted an overnight stay. Two weeks ago, Sean got a visit with Cassidy, whom he ended up having sex with twice. The week after that, it was Finn which was more of the same; Cassidy was sick during Finn's visit, so it was a pleasant surprise when they both turned up.

They both arrived during lunch hour; Sean and Nathan once again sat together, going over sketches they made.

"So...um, what's with all the devil pics ?" Sean says as he looks through Nathan's sketch book "You, never really talk about them."

"Oh, that ?" Nathan says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck "Just something I've been dreaming about."

Sean was of course talking about a red humanoid figure that has been showing up in Nathan's drawings. Notably, this thing had horns, and fits the visual image one gets when they want to draw a cartoony red devil.

Before Nathan could elaborate further, a guard by the name of Wilson came up to their table "Hey, Diaz ? They're here."

Sean nods and gets up, bidding Nathan adieu as he and Wilson walk off.

Had Nathan explained himself, it would have been known that he's been catching glimpses of what he called "The Red Mist Man" outside of his nightmares. At first he was sure he was seeing things, but he continued to do so even when he got prescribed a double dose of medication. Triple even.

After a while, Nathan knew what it meant. This "Red Mist Man" was something sent from Hell to take him there. Nathan felt it in the air, running up his spine and chilling him to the bones, leering over his shoulder. He didn't know what to do or say, but he could almost hear it speak. Death was coming for him, and no doubt Hell sent something to pick him up.

If Nathan were to guess, this must be God's way of getting back at him for Kate Marsh...and at the time, Nathan had to admit to himself he deserved it.

\----

"Alright, you three know the drill. Anything happens, you ring this alarm." Wilson says, jabbing a thumb at a fire alarm on the conjugal rooms wall, then stepping out to let the visit commence.

Once they where alone, Sean turns to Finn and Cass, and pulls them into a group hug.

"I was starting to think you weren't gonna make it." He says.

"Yee, have little of faith my friend." Finn answers "You didn't think we weren't gonna squeeze room in for our second favorite wolf ?"

"So...any good news ?" Cassidy asks, laying down on the rooms bed.

Sean sighs and shakes his head "I won't know until the next hearing. They want to see how my progress is going before they re-evaluate my charges."

"Isn't that what they said the last time ?" Finn asks, taking a seat beside Cassidy.

"And the time before that." Sean nods taking his seat between them.

"But your book," Cassidy starts "That should show them that you're doing good."

"Besides that, looking into your case, what they got you for should be cut down to five years." Finn brings up.

"I haven't even been hear for two." Sean says "Besides, I don't think the parole board would take to kindly to what my book was saying."

"You're friends with that Prescott kid, right ?" Finn says, causing Cassidy to tense up a little "You keep going on about how his family's got a lot of pull; maybe he could put in a good word for you ?"

"I don't know Finn," Cassidy answers "I don't think a serial torturer and killer is the best character witness for Sean here."

In their last few visits, both Cassidy and Finn met briefly Nathan a couple times, and knew him by rep. Cassidy wasn't exactly comfortable to cross paths with him, especially with what he's in for; Finn, while a little more comfortable, kept his eyes on Nathan based off what he heard of him.

Sean talked about some of the time and even art they did together, which gave them an easier view on Nathan, even if the two didn't have the highest opinion of him. In Sean's case, it was more of a lack of people to actually talk to, especially over mutual interests.

"Anyways, enough about me. How's you're week been ?" Sean asks.

"Ah, parents keep trying to follow me." Cassidy answers "I mean, I turned nineteen months back, so I'm my own woman. I got the cops involved and everything, but my dad is putting out a reward for my safe return." She does quote motions on the last two words  
.  
"Shit." Sean says "Are things that bad ?"

"They could be worse." Cassidy answers "I got my lawyer involved and we're putting out a restraining order on my family. Didn't stop mom from trying to call me..."

"Me and Cass have been staying together," Finn adds "Y'know, for her safety."

"We're planning a stay in Beaver Creek," Cassidy explains "Until everything blows over."

"Speaking of, have you heard from Daniel ?" Sean asks.

Both Finn and Cassidy shake their heads "Not a peep I'm afraid."

"I've been trying to call or write to him all week." Sean explains "I haven't heard a thing. I call Stephen, Claire, Chris. Nothing. I even reached out to Karen, but she hasn't heard anything either."

"I tried calling him yesterday," Finn starts "Dead signal."

They heard a loud growling sound, as Cassidy clutched her stomach "Speaking of calls, natures calling."

Cassidy hastily gets off the bed and rushes towards the bathroom. The fan was turned on to cover up the sound of regurgitation. Both Finn and Sean glance at the door as they could vaguely hear Cassidy over the whoosh of the fan.

"Aaaanyways," Finn says taking Sean by the shoulder "I wouldn't worry too much if I was you. Maybe there's a blackout there. Maybe he's found himself a little misses."  
Sean scoffs/laughs at this.

"If Daniel found himself a girlfriend I would never hear the end of it."

"When my older brother got one, I think he forgot anyone else existed. Once me and my other brothers joined them on a date to this theatre, we were left behind when they left." Finn remarks.

"Christ man," Sean laughs.

"Yeah, we gave him an earful about it when we got home." Finn laughs.

"Okay, but even if that was the case," Sean starts "I still find it concerning the signals dead."

If Sean knew what was to come that night, he would have greater concerns over the new inmate that shown up six days before.

\-----  
As of late, there have been talks of a newcomer.

Over the past four days, word got around that the new meat was a high profile guy. The kind of guy you don't want in regular prisons; it's speculated he'd be put in solitary with what he's in for, but according to guards who were in the mood for sharing smokes with Willis, the new guy is only here for temporary "protective custody".

The paperwork is still being worked but the case was open and shut in a manner of weeks. Sean only saw this guy once when he first came in. The guy was taken in trussed up like he was Hannibal Freaking Lecter; he looked over his shoulder at Sean when he passed his cell, and winked.

Word spreads fast when you get the kind of guards willing to share smokes with you. No one quite knew how much of what is said of this guy is true, or just bravado. After all the details are still being worked out..

Story goes that the new guy - "Giles Isaev" they're calling him - was some rich, European, pretty boy who came to the states to live out the American Dream, _Scarface_ style. These were his own words, when Isaev was busted on a raid in the south regions of Oregon. Upon being questioned by the FBI, he just started confessing to all manner of crimes; pimping men, women and children out; pushing drugs that junkies have killed (and supposedly cannibalized) each other over; fighting rings where man and animal alike risk getting their bones and bodies broken on the daily.

Matter of fact, the thing he got sprung over was the kidnapping and torture of a couple that stole from him. By the time he was caught, Isaev was wiping blood off a longsword he had used to cut out the couple's eyes and tongue.

How the FBI knew of this activity isn't clear, as the local agency had no ongoing investigation for this man in particular; while stories of such a trafficking ring had caught their attention, they knew nothing of the man named Giles Isaev. Hell, they're still trying to find the agents who initially arrested Isaev.

So far it's just dead ends.

The only thing they knew for sure was of the couple Isaev tortured, and that poor thug he was put in a holding cell who got his throat eaten out.

At the same time, Isaev has been going on about these "people" and organizations that are after him for less than legal purposes; Isaev himself would claim he had critical information that could bring these organizations down and expose so many people; all he asked for was the law to play ball, was that he be sent to this specific prison and to be allowed visit a specific inmate.

It's been days now, and the boys in jumpsuits are yet to hear a thing. Supposedly there are plans to do something to Isaev, considering he's planning on snitching, and with the shit he's accused of. 

Unbeknownst to Sean, there's been an accident in the block he's in.

\-----

Later that night, Nathan was treating himself to a shower. As usual, he'd do so alone.

One perk of being a "pampered" prisoner was lone showers. He heard all about what happens if you drop the soap, and what happens if you try to be smart in picking it up.  
In Nathan's case, he uses liquid soap in a bottle and loofa (better safe than sorry). He didn't have his own shower, but he had a schedule for when the rest of the showers were free.

He felt the lights flicker a little, but decided not to pay it any mind. What did catch his attention was the red flashing light. And considering his recent nightmares, the red light mixed with the missed, gave him some pretty triggering thoughts.

Then the sound of an alarm started blaring. Instinctively he turned off his faucet and went to his towel to dry off.

Worst case scenario, there was a fight, in which case all he'd have to do is lay low and wait things out till it blows over. He was usually in his cell when it happens, which was more often than not, heavily guarded.

That is when he heard the door slam open. About thirteen prisoners walked in and quickly surrounded him; about five of them were armed, with blunt or sharp instruments.

"There you are Prescott." One of them, he recognized as Willis grinned at him "We've been looking for you for a while now..."

"Yeah," a younger inmate says "Six years actually." This guy was brandishing a make shift shank out of a toothbrush.

Nathan backed towards the wall, he recognized some of them as the boys who gave Carter Reece the Lorena Bobbitt treatment.

"H-hey boys, I don't want any trouble now..." Nathan says nervously.

One of them gets in his face "Yeah ? And I bet that Chloe girl didn't want in trouble neither."

"Or those other ones ?" Willis smirks crossing his arm.

"You beat one of your girls into the hospital, twice." Nathan shouts pointing a finger at Willis "Don't act like you-"

"Don't go around saying your the moral authority here." Willis says, having taking out a switch blade and pointing it at Nathan's nose "We're all in this together, boy."  
Nathan felt his heart racing, and his eyes starting to water.

"And what about those other girls ? Hmm? You see them every time you close your eyes whitey ? Say they're names!"

"You do this..." Nathan snakingly breathes out "You can kiss your parole goodbye."

"I ain't never getting out. Mack here's not gonna see his kids, and I've been in for ten years already." An older thug says "You're money can't help you here Prescott."

Two of them took hold of Nathan's arms and suddenly, all of them began to line up, ready for their turns.

Nathan began to shake, and even weep silently, knowing there was no way out for him here.

First thug takes Nathan by the chin and forces him to face him "Pucker up butter cup."

And with that, Nathan felt a fist collide into his nose, and as he collapsed, he felt himself being kicked in the stomach and groin.

"Please!" Nathan cried out, spitting out blood, as more of it ran down his nose "I didn't want any of them to die!"

"Yeah, they didn't want to die either, Prescott." A thug answers.

"Now say their mother fucking names!"

"Margery-...Carol," Nathan starts to weep "A-Allyson...Lynn.." before being kicked in the stomach as he tries to get back up.

"Hey! We didn't say stop!" Willis says brandishing his knife.

Snakingly Nathan continues "Chloe- Chloe...R-Rachel" Nathan starts, almost burying his head in his hands "I-I'm so sorry..."

"Keep going. Sorry's not gonna get you anywhere."

Nathan continues, often having to be punched, kicked or even jabbed to do so.

As he went on, Nathan saw out of the corner of his eye as what he called "The Red Mist Man", made his way towards him. It was silently standing over the group as they took their turns with him. And just as Nathan felt himself on his last breaths, it leered down onto him, and bit.

When Nathan succumbed to the darkness, he heard it's voice.

" ** _Awake, my progeny..._** "

\-----

About an hour or so earlier, at the far end of the isolated block, Isaev was able to get the attention of the one other prisoner in the cell. Of course it was a matter of whistling and calling out his name.

They were in separate cells, on the same hall.

"Mark ? Marky ? Maaaark." Isaev would call from his cell, much to the annoyance of his "neighbor".

"What ?"

"Well, that was rather rude. I just wanted to say hi. How else would you great an old friend ?" Isaev would ask.

"Do I know you ?"

"We had unfinished business back in the day you and I," Isaev says "Of course, you hurt another friend of mine, for which I seek compensation for."

Mark laughs to himself upon hearing this.

"Let me guess, you have a daughter or sister, in my photo albums." Mark ask "Not that ? Okay, how about a girlfrie-"

"Does the name Vivian Manning mean anything to you ?"

Mark gives no response.

"Come on, I know you know her. She was a favorite of yours I hear."

Mark shakes his head "Sorry, I never really played favorites."

"Sure you do. Strawberry blonde hair ? One of your students ? Was about nineteen years old ? You fucked her once or twice ? Not ringing any bells ?" Giles Isaev shouts out "Come on I know you know this one. How about this ? She used that name as a pseudonym when you went on that museum date."

This cause Mark to freeze in his cell. He can't possibly mean what he thinks he means...

"Did you get that gift of your this morning ? That little box of yours, Jeff ?" Isaev asks in a sing song tone.

Mark Jefferson thought back to yesterday morning. Someone sent him a gift; a phone. He's been getting death threats over the years, and he's even gotten mail from fans of his (some sent him nudes, or pictures trying to replicate his work - amateurs didn't have the guts to really get their hands dirty though). But the phone was something new; he couldn't open it, as there was a password already instilled.

"Y-yeah," Jefferson says trying to put up a confident front "It's locked, genius."

"Turn it on, and type the following; 05..."

"05," Jefferson types, muttering under his breath, but Isaev could apparently hear him.

"23...13."

Jefferson types the remainder of the password.

"Go to the photos."

Jefferson does so, and couldn't believe what he was seeing. Furthermore he couldn't believe the dates these pictures were supposedly taken. 2017, 2018, 2019. All of them of the same girl in different activities; brunch, trips to the boardwalk, a few yacht parties, rave scenes, even a few post coital selfies.

"How about this ? Does the name Rachel mean anything to you ?"

"What kind of sick joke is this ?" Jefferson shouts out "I know for a fact this one is dead!"

"Correction; was dead." Isaev answers "Luckily for me, she wants you alive. And the way I see it, I can either be a messenger boy, or a delivery boy."

Jefferson's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of something heavy and metal clanging on the ground. Although he couldn't see it, he could tell the cell door fell off it's hinges and onto the floor beneath them.

To Jefferson's further disbelief, Isaev made his way to the front of his cell, and without even trying, pulled the hinges off its metal door.

"Now, Mark. We can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way. The choice is yours."

\----

The first alarm blared within the next few minutes. Several guards entered the isolated block to find Jefferson's cell door open. Jefferson himself was spitting out blood and teeth, doubled over. He was coughing and groaning as Isaev kept kicking him on the ground.

Over the next few minutes, one set of guards had to secure Isaev who backed down without any further fight. Jefferson was being hauled off to the medical ward.

Another set of guards were taking Isaev to what was called "The Hole" - a special spot they'd take first time prisoners who were caught acting out of line. A few days in a dark space, fit for a janitors closet was usually enough to scare the good behavior into them. They even put Isaev's "Hannibal" mask back on due to the biting motions he made at a few guards.

Isaev wasn't going to see a minute of it though.

Midway though their trek Isaev, broke his cuffs grabbed hold of one of the guards, and broke his neck, and in the confusion, made quick work of the other four. He picked the gun and keys and hastily made his way to each cell. Very dangerous people too, the kind you do not running around in a system that oppressed their building anger; gangsters, biker, skinheads. The few who didn't immediately start running, ran for the cells that had "undesirable prisoners".

Within minutes, mattresses and toilet paper was already set ablaze. Many inmates tried to audaciously attack Isaev, either to restrain or just kill him. Those who didn't get shot, were bitten. Over a dozen guards already found themselves being beat by the prisoners; some shot, maimed, or just have their limbs broken. Some guards have already taken to shooting the prisoners, but the gunfire would barley phase Isaev.

All the while, the less aggressive and more rehabilitated of the inmates simply coward in their cells, and the few who didn't ran for a place to hide. Especially as the seemingly dead inmates began to get back up, and as if acting on an animal instinct, started biting and brinking from people.

\----

In the meantime, that same evening Sean, Cassidy and Finn, were still in conjugal, talking over plans for their next trip to Beaver Creek (excluding Sean of course) , and what Daniel could be up to.

"Alright, Sean how about this? If I see that Daniel has a girlfriend, and has been dodging you because of her, you owe me 500 dollars. If not, than I owe you the same amount." Finn remarks.

"You're going have a pretty lousy financial experience then." Sean jokes "700 says he's still holding out on Lyla. He held onto that since kindergarten."

"Alright, I'll bite." Cassidy smirks with a roll in her eye "900 says you both are wasting your time and he just broke his phone or something."

"For real though, I could use the money." Finn adds "Thinking of getting him a gift. There's a game he's been waiting for that keeps getting delayed, and I know this guy who can pirate physical copies for a pri-"

They were interrupted by the sound of the prisons alarm, as well as the rioting. Someone outside was making their way to their room when the door opens.

"You three alright?" Wilson emerges through the door.

"What's going on ?"

"The prison's compromised." Wilson asks.

"Meaning ?" Cassidy asks nervously.

"Meaning for the time being you three are going to have to stay put." Wilson says looking out the door for any signs of trouble.  
From outside the hall, they can hear an inmate loudly remark "Peek-A-Boo- I see you!"

Sveral prisoners aggressively made their way down the hall, and Wilson saw one of them had a gun. Wilson pulled out his piece, and shot once, sending them scattering.  
The bullet hits the gunman in the throat, causing him to stagger. Wilson shot a few more times, but wasn't a particularly good shot this time around, but he may have just been firing warning shots.

Wilson quickly closed the door, and barricaded it with a dresser. He motions Sean and the other two to get down on the ground. In any other situations, Sean would be having a number of uncomfortable flashback, but any attempt to mentally get out this situation fails, as the sound of over a dozen inmates banging on the door outside.

Oh, the obscenidities they were screaming; the real nasty stuff was the remarks they've been making towards Cass and Finn, and a few racist pot shots toward Sean himself.  
And that to was drowned out by the sound of gunfire. Only five shots rang out, but the sound of...something else making mince meat of the prisoners outside. Everyone in the room was taken aback by the blood flowing under the door.

"It's safe to open up now..." A tired voice awkwardly calls out  
.  
"We aren't opening until we know it's clear." Wilson says pointing his gun towards the door.

"Come on man, I need medical aid." The voice says again "I'm bleeding out fast. For god's sake, I got a youth from block C with me..."

Sighing, Wilson reluctantly gets up and moves the shelf. As he opens the door, another shot rings out. Wilson collapses onto the floor as another prisoner barges his way in, clutching his bleeding neck. It was Giles Isaev.

"Sorry for the racket kids, but I've been hoping to meet you for a while now." Isaev says pointing the gun and gesturing them to sit on the bed.  
With their hands up, Sean, Finn and Cassidy did as told.

"There we go, there we go, always good to play ball." Isaev says, taking a chair and using it to barricade the door. When Isaev takes his own seat he smiles towards Sean "Sean Diaz, right ? Love your book, but I find the political themees in it were too on the nose."

Sean opened his mouth to say something but couldn't find the words, Isaev does the talking for him.

"You don't mind if I smoke do you ?" Isaev takes a cigarette out of his pocket, lights it and takes a deep huff, blowing out a deep cloud of smoke as he once again addresses Sean once again "You've been enjoying this little vacation of yours for a while now Mr. Diaz, and unfortunately, I had to get off my tuchus, and put myself in the pen. And you know why ?"

Sean doesn't answer. He's completely at a loss for words at what is happening. The most he could do was shake his head.

"Favor for a friend." Isaev shrugs "My family, has made a lot of friends the past few years, and have taken to making deals with them." He casually flicks his cigarette onto the floor and stomps it out. "In your case, Mr. Diaz, you and your brother have made some new friends of mine angry with your actions the last few years. Dirty secrets unaired, reputations ruined, put everyone through over a year of drama, all over a couple of dead bodies. Well, myself and Mother's other children have been making deals with certain organizations, one of which has a special interest in getting your brother back into their loving hands, and you to pay for your sins against them."

"Daniel," Sean found his voice and found his protective big brother instinct kick in "I swear to God if you-"

"Relax, our boys in Beaver Creek haven't found anything of him...yet." Isaev leans forward, the light showing just a bit more of his face as he glances back at Finn and Cassidy "As for your friends, I've been asking around and it appears your boy-toy has a bounty in Montana for skipping bails. As for your little girlfriend, her family have been missing her dearly; willing to pay just as dearly too. And frankly, I've been planning on getting a new car, so I could use an extra couple thousand in my pocket."

"This...was all to get to us ?" Cassidy asks nervously.

"You're half right missy." Isaev uses the business end of the gun to scratch his nose "Another friend asked me a favor to get someone else in here, but he's been taken care of." He points his gun back at them "You three on the other hand, are to be special guests of-"

Before he could finish, Finn was the first to get up and rush Isaev, taking him by surprise. Finn takes hold of Isaev's armed gun and does what he can to aim it too the roof.

On instinct, Sean also gets up and lunges at Isaev, pinning him down in the confusion. It wasn't a proper fight, but of a struggle to subdue him, and the only reason they were holding out so far was because they got the drop on him.

Sean takes a hold of Isaev's shirt and pulls it up over the gunman's eyes. At the same time, Finn instinctively jabbed a thumb into the wound on Isaev's bleeding neck, causing the latter to scream.

But even then, Isaev quickly got his footing, and with a few motions tossed the two young men aside. Both Sean and Finn slam into the walls, both winded and dazed by the impact. Groaning, they look up to see Isaev try to adjust himself.

"Alrighty then." Isaev coughs out "Faye kings want to dance." He aims the gunforward towards them and pulls the trigger...

Click.

Isaev tries again.

Click, Click.

"Goddammit." He says tossing the gun aside "Very well, fisticuffs it is."

Before he could do anything though, he heard something. Like a child screaming out in terror. Isaev turned around at the direction of the noise to see nothing but the wall behind him. "Curious," he thinks to himself. Before he could do anything else, he felt something large, metal and plastic strike the back of his head with enough force to cause a concussion.

It was Cassidy, previously taking ahold of the chair while the other two fought Isaev.

"Are you two alright ?" She asks as Sean and Finn snakingly help each other to their feet.

"What do we do now ?" Finn asks.

"We go find help." Cassidy says.

"No!" Sean quickly shakes his head "If we run from this, if we survive, we could- we could...I might get more time on my sentence."

"If we stay here," Finn gestures to the bodies "They might think we did this."

"Sean, if they trust you, you can try to explain yourself when we-" Cassidy starts, before instinctively jumping back at the feeling on Isaev's hand on her ankle.

On reflex, Sean and Finn take hold of either end of the dresser, and flip it downwards on top of Isaev. You could almost hear a loud crush and the slightest whimper from Isaev.

"Looks like we don't have any choice, do we Sean ?" Finn asks as he catches his breath.

With a shaky nod, Sean accepts.

It was simply a matter of finding a place to hide. They debated taking weapons with them in case they encounter either guards or prisoners next.

\----

It had been hours since the riot began and twelve guards were left trying and failing to control the situation. It was like something out of a zombie movie, as what appeared to be walking corpses attacked guards and other prisoners alike.

Sean, along with Finn and Cassidy, made their way through three different blocks, trying to find the right hiding spot. The three of them never spoke allowed, so as to keep a low profile.

The cafeteria was taken over by prisoners, holding thirteen guards hostage; The showers were loud with the sound of a gang beating and stabbing an unknown individual to death (later learned to be Nathan Prescott); medical wing was closed off completely (and even then there was comotion going on in there), so that was a no go; the isolated cell was now, ironically overrun.

Ironically the safest place in prison, was outside the prison.

The yard was empty, no a creature was stirring, but even then it was better safe than sorry. The three made their way to the bleachers, and by the time they could relax, the sky was changing color. It was somewhere in the 5:00 to 6:00 AM range.

They just had to hold out for a few more hours before daylight. It was here were Finn breaks the silence.

"What the hell were those things ?"

"They can't be what we think they are, right ?" Cassidy asks.

Zombies was about the only thing they had in mind.

They three sat under the bleacher's holding each other as they waited over the sounds of the riot; both too tired to continue running and too scared to sleep.

They didn't know how much time passed in the darkness, but as daylight started to break overhead, as did the buzz of helicopter wings.

Of course, they'd take to calling in a SWAT Team, Sean thought to himself. Is about the only way to get things under control.

Six helicopters appeared in the sky making their way towards the prison, and one in particular landed in the yard.

Cassidy took Sean by the shoulders to try to shake him awake "This is it Sean! Now's our chance."

"We go slowly, keep our hands up, and they won't shoot." Finn nods.

As they did so, several men in White and dark red SWAT outfits advanced toward them, cautiously. It was odd colors for sure for standard SWAT Gear, but this wasn't the time to question it. Even more oddly, they wore the embalm of a cross, and crossbow on their shoulder pads.

"Freeze! Identify yourselves!" One officer calls out.

"Finn McNamara."

"Lucy Rose Jones."

"Sean Diaz."

"Are any of you injured ?" The officer asks.

"Have any of you been bitten ?" Another asks.

"...No." The three of them say at once after exchanging a glance.

"We're going to have to pad you down, make sure you aren't infected."

"What ?" Sean asks.

"Spread your arms and your legs. Standard procedure. C'mon."

The three of them akwardly do as they're told as three officers, frisk them, even going as far as to reach under their clothes.

Sean has been at the receiving end of these before, when the prison wanted to check him for drugs. This was something he was experienced with, but he had a feeling this was the first feel down Finn and Cassidy got from the boys in blue.

"Okay, take these three into evac. Rest of you try to get this situation under control." One officer orders the rest of the unit, before going on his radio "We got three civies here, taking them to evac, we may need to get some backup."

The three of them where motioned off, albeit at gunpoint to the copter, which took off with all but three officers staying behind.

Somewhere in the flight, Sean passed out.

\----

It was finally daylight hours when Sean awoke again, although it was raining. The bright lights of the hospital room almost annoyed him, but he was used to it from the last time he was in the hospital like this.

Hopefully things will turn out a little better for him this time around, but he doubted it. He was back in the states after all. And as he felt his head spinning from disorientation, he saw he had company in the room.

It was a young woman, about his age give or take a few years. She wasn't dressed like one would expect; nothing to indicate she was a cop, FBI agent. She was dressed in a black leather jacket, and matching pants and boots. She also had short blonde hair.

"There he is. Welcome to the land of the living, Mr. Diaz." The woman says. Her voice was warm and her smile was friendly.

Sean looks over at his wrist. The last time he was in this situation, he had to wear a cuff to the bed until they were sure he was stable. To his curiosity, there was no cuff.  
"I'm not arrested, am I ?"

"Should you be ?" The woman asks.

"Are you not a cop ?" Sean asks "I'm still a prisoner, am I not ?"

"Not at the moment; now you're a person of interest, and a patient. And no, I'm not a cop. I'm not with the government either, so you can relax. I do want to ask you a few questions about what you've seen, but we want to make sure you are in stable condition." The woman answers "Your boyfriend and girlfriend are alright by the way. You've been out for two days, but they're being treated in the next wing."

Sean's eyes widen "boyfriend and girlfriend" ? At least he knows they're okay, but he wanted to keep the exact nature of their relationship on the downlow. The woman notices Sean's shocked and concerned expression before she clarifies.

"Hey, look I'm not here to judge, sometimes my girlfriend and I have a third partner too." The woman fakes a cough "Anyways, they filled me in, and I think you may be more comfortable if we go with first names." The woman reaches her hand out to shake Sean's "Name's Samantha. My friends call me Sam."

Sean takes Sam's hand to shake it "Sean, but you knew that. Can I ask where we are ?"

"Seaside, Oregon. My people had this wing closed off, so you and your friends are in good hands. The official story is you three are key witnesses to what happened Boon County Penitentiary, but I figure you could use a friend to help break the ice." Sam turns her head to the door, and as if on cue, Finn awkwardly opens it, dressed in a hospital gown.

"Hey there, wolf boy," Finn smiles, carrying two bags of chips in one hand, and bottles of soda in his other arm as he walks up to the bag "I take it I missed you waking up, but I figured you could use a bite."

"Thanks, haven't eaten in days." Sean says, taking a bag and immediately digging in.

"I'll give you two some privacy," Sam says before correcting herself "I mean, this room is being monitored, but you get the point." Sam says, getting up from her seat and heading out the door.

Finn smiles as he takes her seat "So you good enough to walk man ?"

"I think my bad eye is acting up, but other than that I'm feeling alright." Sean shrugs.

"We'll get a doc or nurse to look at that," Finn nods, but his smile flattens "But Sean, these people, I don't think they're any law enforcement I've heard about. They kept this wing cut off from the rest of the hospital and are asking and telling us things...like that Sam girl laid a lot on me and Cass when we woke up."

"What did she say ?"

Finn sighs, opens his soda and take a drink before saying "I don't know how else to say it, so I'm just gonna lay it all out for you," Finn inhales deeply before exhaling "Vampires exist, man."

This momentarily threw Sean off "W-what ?"

"Those things in the prison? They were vampires." Finn said, raising one hand and another to emphasize his point.

Sean was at a loss for words, not that he didn't try to say something; he knew that something supernatural exists in this world, but never seriously considered their existence; back in the day he's heard many an urban legends of Skinwalkers, demonic possession; there were times he and Daniel used to jokingly look out for Bigfoot during their travels. He remembers the year before his dad died, at a Halloween party, he and the other played a game Ouija Board that supposedly contacted the Slenderman, and no one can could prove that was a prank.

Hell, Daniel's powers alone show Sean that there is something in this world beyond the mundane.

In short, Sean was thinking he probably shouldn't be too surprised.

Finn continues "Anyways, we were taken here by this group that have been hunting them, and they wanted to look us over; make sure none of us were bitten or anything, and they wanted to ask us questions when we come too. Luckily, everything checked out, and Cassidy hasn't had any complication-"

Finn stops himself before he finishes. Sean eyes him suspiciously.

"Finn, what were you saying about Cass ?" Sean asks.

"It's - not really my place to say. She wants to tell you herself." Finn says.

"Tell me what ?" Sean says, climbing out of bed, but finds himself unbalanced and sitting on the edge.

They are interrupted by the sound of a door knocking. Sam opens the door.

"Alright, I figured this is my cue to bring you into our hearing, but your girlfriend has been asking to see when you're up. What say you, kid ?" Sam asks.

Sean nods "How is she ? What's happening too her ?"

"She's in stable condition all things considered, she just wants to see you. You need help standing up or do you think you can manage ?"

Sean could manage to stand but it took him a bit to get used to using his legs.

\----

Sean and Finn walked down a mostly empty hall, mostly occupied by men and women, that like Sam, wouldn't be out of place in Agents of Shield with how they dressed. Cassidy's room was seven doors down.

When Sean has Cassidy's door opened, she's sitting on her bed in a hospital gown of her own, casually reading a book. She turns to Sean, and a smile quickly forms on her face.

"There's my wolfman," Cassidy beams as she gets up from the bed to give Sean a great big bear hug "I've been worried about you." She says with a kiss on the cheek.

"I've been worried about you too, honey." Sean says, kissing her on the temple.

"So...vampires, huh ?" Cassidy says with a smile.

"Yeah, I almost hoped it'd be zombies." Sean says with an chuckle of his own "All that video game training, wasted."

"Chris Redfield would be disappointed." Finn adds jokingly, shaking his head while patting Sean on the shoulder, with Cassidy reaching her hand up to touch Finn's. Sean added his own hand in the equation as they held each others hands.

"So..." Sean finally speaks before "Finn's been saying you want to tell me something ? Are you okay ? Like you haven't been...bitten or anything, have you ?"

Cassidy shakes her head with an awkward smile "No, nothing like that...but, you know how I have been sick for a while now ?"

"Yeah ?" Sean says, but the infliction in his voice made it sound like he was asking a question "Is- is it bad, Cass ?"

Cassidy glances to the side nervously, complete with a bite on her lower lip, not exactly able to find the words. Luckily actions speak louder than words.

Cassidy takes Sean's hand out of Finn's and off his shoulder, and begins to guide it down downwards...and placing it on her stomach.

For one of many instances in his life, Sean felt his world stop. A billion things have been going though his head at once. He thought he hit a speedbump at the discovery that he was back in the states, that vampires existed, and now Cassidy was telling him this!

Cassidy guided her hand upwards, placing it on Sean's cheek; a sad smile forms on her face as she presses her forehead to Sean's.

"Two weeks Sean," Cassidy said "Remember when I was acting up last week ? Well, I guess we know why I was sick then."

"H-how did this happen ?" Sean finally found his voice.

"You were there, remember ?" Cassidy smiles "I missed my monthly visitor last week, and I had my suspicions, but I didn't know until the docs here told me."

"So, uh..." Finn starts "What- what do you think Sean ?"

Sean took a deep gulp before snakingly asking "Do...are you planning on keeping it ?

Cassidy looks down, before saying with a shaky voice of her own "I- I don't know yet. I just wanted you to know, because I think you should have a say, Sean. I found out myself, and I still don't know what to make of this...but I just want to know, that whatever happens, you will be there, for me."

Sean looks down and after a moment of thinking, presses his hand back on Cassidy's stomach.

"I'm not leaving your side, Cass. Not after this, and not after what we just been through." Sean says, taking Cassidy into a hug "We're going to figure this out together." Sean looks over his shoulder at Finn "All of us."

Finn smiles with a pat on Sean's back "I've always got your back, Sean, and you Cass. I never ditched the two of you and I don't intend to start now, but..."  
"But what ?" Cassidy asks.

"What about Uncle Daniel ?" Finn asks "We still haven't heard from him, and if that masked guy says is any indication, we aren't the only ones looking for him..."

They were interrupted by Sam, leaning on the door way with an cough.

"Look, I hate to interrupt this little moment of yours, but there's something the bosses and I have been meaning to talk to you about."

\----

"And that's how we got you here," says the woman in the office.

This girl Samantha seemed to flip a switch in between this hearing and the encounters with her at the hospital. Accompanying her at this meeting was four other people, whose names he didn't get fort he most part, but where dressed in a way that imply some sort of authority. Despite this, Sam was the one doing most of the talking. Her, and another "supporting agent" - this redheaded woman named Faden - but no one really knows who she works for or with. All they know for sure is she represents another organization, and one of many looking into these events; if the way she and Sam kept giving looks at eachother was an indication, Sean was willing to bet the two had a fling or two in the past. But that was none of his business.

This wasn't the parole meeting Sean thought he'd be having, but Sam gave a rundown; the short of it is that this organization, and others have a special interest in what is happening, and Sean's involvement...if he plays ball, the higher ups of these groups will see to it that Sean is a free man - with certain limitations of course. They were under heavy guard of course, which includes the police, and they had to take character witnesses from Sean's time in prison. A lot of them made notes about Sean and his progress.

Given the circumstances, Finn and Cassidy sat at his side for the hearing, for support.

They have spent the past two hours going over Sean's time in the pen, and answering questions about Sean and his progress. He learned that a few other witnesses have been taken from the prison and now under the protection, or recruitment of what is called "The Guard".

One such prisoner is Mark Jefferson, who is confirmed survived the riot, albeit at the expense of bludgeoning several nurses, doctors and guards when the riot became out of control; he used them to distract the vampires when they made their presence known. When Jefferson was recovered, he was hiding out in a closet, holding out despite his injuries; he was the only survivor of in the medical wing. As of now, Jefferson is considered a priority witness, and has been relocated to the Seattle area, due to information he has on someone going by "Vivian Manning", even got to work out a deal of his own.

As for the dead, Nathan Prescott was among them. Sean was told he was tortured by a dozen inmates for three hours before dying of his injuries. Only reason they didn't mutilate him was because they didn't want him to live through it, so there was really no point.

"So here's what we can do," Sam starts "The official story - the one we are going to have the police and feds believe - is that you three are key witnesses to our ongoing investigation of sex crime syndicate; this is the half the truth."

"The people we are looking for, are in fact part of a crime family, involved in the three big bad trafficking ops; sex, drugs and weapons. The man you met that night ? Giles Isaev ? Doesn't exist. At least not as you know him" Faden explains "There was a Giles Isaev, but he died in Russia back in 1978, from a wolf attack at the age of six; afterwards he was cremated. No other records of another Giles Isaev existed until four months ago."

"That guy though," Finn asks "Is he dead now ? We left him in our room, and he was pretty fucked up."

"Your room was searched. We found blood but no other body than that of the guard you spoke of. We couldn't find anything of him really. No pictures, composite sketch, nothing. It's like hunting a ghost. And trust me, even _that_ is a picnic in comparison."

Sean raises his hand this time "Does anyone on your team have anything on Beaver Creek ?"

"My team ? We're on the Beaver Creek investigation and cleanup crew, yes." Sam says "But we're still looking into what happened until we get a clear picture."

"What exactly happened there anyways ?" Cassidy asks "It's just that's where his brother lives."

"Oh, my god..." Sam says, briefly covering her mouth "Look, like I said we're still looking things over but- between this and Puerto Lobos-" she starts before she is interrupted.

"Wait what ?" Sean says.

"There was...an attack of Peurto Lobos a week ago." Sam starts to explain "From what we got, it was also a vampire attack. Our Mexican division is looking into it; death toll is at a hundred and nine, along with eighty five missing persons."

"What about Beaver Creek ?"

"There is a Daniel Diaz on the missing persons list. An Agent Flores is looking into his disappearance, but she's been also asking to speak to you once you're checked out." Sam explains.

Sean immediately gets from his chair in an almost explosive manner, but Faden puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Sean, please! Control yourself," Faden says as calmly as she can muster "I can understand what you're going through, but it's important that you sit through this."

"My brother is missing and could be dead, you do not want to make this situation worse!" Sean says angrily.

"And neither do you, which is why you are not going to run away again." Faden says taking Sean by both his shoulders and forcibly sitting him back down onto the chair.  
A combination of fear, anxiety and washed over Sean at once, but ultimately the former two outweighed the latter, and he slumped down into his seat with a shaky sigh.

"I just can't leave him," Sean shakes his head "I can't loose him again."

"I can understand that, but Sean, we already took risks making sure you can be trusted. You run away now, and another manhunt will start for you." Faden explains "Look kid, I get it. I was about half your age, and my brother went missing, there was nothing I wouldn't have to get him back; I am lucky now to be in a position where I am still trying to save him. If I had been were you are, and I would have done anything to have the choice our friends in the Guard are about to give you."

"What's that ?" Sean ask.

Now it was Sam's turn to speak up "After some friends and I learned the hard way that monsters exist, these people started following us. Turn out where there's monsters, there are hunters; different organizations in fact." She gestures to Faden "She found one while me and my friends found the others. We were put into protective custody for a while, and to make a long, long story short, a few of us ended up being monster hunters ourselves."

It takes a moment for this to sink in to Sean before he asks "So, what, we sign some papers and then we become hunters too ?"

"No. Not all of you," Sam shakes her head "First, you don't have the same training or experience as us. Although, we can't recruit her given her condition, so she'd be under protective custody as well." she gestures to Cassidy.

"Think of it like this," Faden starts "Samantha here, and her friends worked their way into being Marines, while you two would be like boy scouts. Not even cadets...yet. The short of it is you can go to places our organizations are investigating, even help out, but I would advise against going in on the battlefield with your new partners."

"Hell, I know a certain someone who got Director rank on their first day." Sam nods, giving Faden a side glance.

Sean shakes his head "Don't you think the police are going to be a problem for us ?"

"I mean, they shouldn't be," Sam says "We got the cover story, that you three are priority witnesses to members of a sex syndicate, and going over your file, there is reasonable doubt that you killed that cop. You being a witness takes precedence over everything else. You'll be fine, as long as you don't poke the bear."

As she was saying this, another agent took out three contracts, placing them in Sean and Finn's hand.

"This is the only way ?" Sean asks.

"Pretty much; you can be a free man, with duties and limitations of course, but it's better than being a prisoner, isn't it ?" Faden nods.

"If that's what it takes to find our wolf cub." Finn nods, before signing his way through the contract he's been given.

Looking over, Sean sighs with a nod of his own.  
"If that's what it takes."

And with that, Sean signs.

\----  
And that is how, Sean, Finn and Cassidy found themselves in Seattle.

Now members of the American Guard, as they call themselves, they were granted two safe houses; one in Seattle itself, the other in Pierce County.

It was probably not a good idea to settle into the city first. As they made their way up the driveway, they noticed a few neighbors eyeing them suspiciously. It wasn't the same house Sean, Daniel and their dad lived in, but it was around the same neighborhood.

Needless to say, it was a long couple of days to get back on their feet. Ostensibly, Sean was a free man, but he knew what he really was; a dog on a leesch. He made phone calls to Agent Flores, once again for transparency.

He learned that the cover story was accepted, and that he and his "housemates" were witnesses to a sex ring. Flores expressed concern as Daniel being a witness to other illegal activity is what's believed to have triggered the Beaver Creek incident.

Sean's first order of business to find out what he could about what happened in Beaver Creek, but truth be told, he was tired after everything that's happened the past four days. The work would begin tomorrow. In the meantime, Sean called Lyla to fill her in on what's happening, but only told her half the truth. He figured she wasn't ready for the truth about vampires or how he and Finn joined an organization of hunters.

That night, it was Finn's turn to cook, and Sean usually found himself glued to Cassidy's side, especially in light of recent news. He joined her in the shower while Finn was prepping supper. Nothing sexual happened there, but Sean found himself singing with Cassidy, as they usually did in the shower ("Take me home, country roads, to the place, I belong")

And covered Sean's first night home.

\----

Elsewhere in Seattle.

Late in the evening, a two year old makes his way up a hallway to his mothers bedroom, carrying with him, a stuffed white rabbit named Alice.

As he started knocking, his mother expectedly opens.

"Another nightmare, Bill ?" the woman asks patiently.

The child, Bill, nods.

The woman sighs and picks him up "Okay, come on. No monsters will get you here..."

As the woman sets her child on the bed she asks  
"What was it this time ?"

"That man from my dreams...the knight, he was killing people again." Bill mumbles.

"Ah, well that's not good. Most knights are supposed to be good."

"Only black knights, but this one was wearing gold." Bill babbles a bit.

"I see," the woman, Max, nods with a yawn.

"He wasn't this time...he was in a jail, and it was today times."

"Shhhh," Max says, putting a finger to Bill's lips "We'll talk about it tomorrow. You don't want to give mommy nightmares, do you ?"  
Bill shakes his head, as Max lies down. Instinctively the toddler nuzzles into her chest.

Somewhere in the night, Max heard her phone buzzing off. She looked over at Bill, who was still asleep. Careful not to disturb him, she climbs out of bed and steps into the hallway. As she made her way to the living room to find the caller was Kate.

"Kate ?" Max asks as she takes her seat on the couch "It's 4AM, what's the matter ?"

"Did you get the news ?" Kate asks.

"At Beaver Creek ? That's all that was being talked abou-"

"Not that," Kate answers "Look, Kristin Prescott just called Vic and I. It's Nathan."

"What about him ?" Max says. She hasn't heard from Nathan nor Jefferson in over three years, since that was the last Victoria paid Nathan a visit. After what happened to Chloe, Max ended up getting close with both Kate and Victoria; it started with group therapy sessions, and "healing trips". As some may say, one thing lead to another.  
Now for a lack of a better word, there was an on and off thing going on between the three; Max was out of the relationship for a while now, while Victoria and Kate ended up together, but they were still friends. Bill wouldn't have his two favorite aunts (next to Dana) without them.

As Kate started to explain what Kristin told her, she caught on to something "Oh shit, did I call at a bad time ?"

"Hmm ? No. No." Max shakes her head "Bill was having another nightmare. He's sleeping in my bed again."

"Aw, poor sweetie." Kate says "He slept like an angel at me and Vic's too...do you need us to stop by ? We can talk things over tomorrow."

"Thank Kate, I appreciate it. Oh, how is Victoria holding up by the way ?"

Max could almost see Kate shrug on her end "She's in the shower. She's taking what happened pretty hard. I guess I was just looking for someone to talk to is all."

"Ah, well it sounds to me your wife is in need of a shoulder to cry on herself." Max nods "Like you said we can talk this over tomorrow. I think Bill could use a visit from his favorite Aunts."

"Oh, so Dana will be there too ?" Kate chips up. Both she and Max laugh at this before Max gets ready to hang up.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow Katie." Max says "I'm needed in Dreamland."

Max hangs up and places her phone on the coffee table and turns the TV on, hoping to drift off to sleep. But it was that same News Story.

It was covering this incident that occurred in Beaver Creek; about a hundred or so are dead, dozens missing - body's found in different stages in multination or even drained of blood. The same occurred about a day afterwards in this town in Mexico, and in Boon County Penitentiary; the last one was the incident that Kate was talking about on the phone, specifically the news that Nathan Prescott is among the dead...and Mark Jefferson is currently "unaccounted for".

There was a fourth such incident. It happened six years ago, in Arcadia Bay.

Max was taken a months long break from the school after what has happened, as did many students. The arrest of Nathan Prescott, Mark Jefferson, and later Sean Prescott struck a mighty blow to both Arcadia Bay and Blackwell Academy. With the Prescott's buying out over half the town, including the school and police department, the Prescott's assets where frozen along with the school and polices funding.

This combined with students being pulled out from school and the FBI's investigation on the police department, and the town was standing on it's last legs. Even family owned business such as Blue Whales Diner gradually fell apart due to the toll Chloe's loss took on Joyce, as did Joyce and David's marriage. Effectively, Arcadia Bay was being drained to death; as if by a vampire with its victim.

In Max's eyes, Arcadia Bay died with Chloe Price.

Max spent the first few months back in Seattle, but after recurring nightmares and few instances of self harm, her parents to her to a clinic that was treating possible victims of the Dark Room and those who were traumatized by what happened in Blackwell. It was here she regrouped with Kate and Victoria, who have spent their time healing over their issues with one another, and in time Max was taken into the fold. After another few months in the clinic, they made a trip to Seattle, were they started to settle in before returning to Arcadia Bay...under really bad circumstances.

It was frankly eerie how much it matched reports of Beaver Creek; It was May of 2014. All in the span of a single night, Arcadia Bays power was cut, an a hundred or so people were found butchered in their homes, beds and the streets. And seventy five people missing. Among the survivors where the few Blackwell students who stayed behind and held out in Blackwell's dormitories. They described the attack as being like a zombie apocalypse. Others described it as an organized attack; one such witness was Warren Graham, who was tortured by some of the group, which left with one permanently blind eye and needing a cane to walk.

And that curious bit about zombies ? The local cemetery had only one unearthed grave - that of Chloe Price. Chloe's body wasn't found after the fact.

The case was investigated by a number of different groups, that didn't appear to be any agency Max ever heard off. Many of them were taking recruits from survivors such as Warren, but Max heard nothing of the investigation.

Over the years, Max has reached out to both Joyce and David, especially after the nightmares kept persisting. She kept up regularly with them for some time. It was two years ago that Joyce dropped a bit of a bombshell on her.

Sometime before Chloe died, she was writing a series of letters, mostly to whatever friends or family she had in the area in case she were to "disappear". They dated back to when Rachel disappeared. Some of them were confession letters, borderline suicide notes, and posthumous wishes. Among them was the revelation that months before Rachel disappeared, Chloe took some pretty drastic measures in raising money, which included donating her ovum's to a clinic at a neighboring town (the money they got ending up being spent on other out of town trips). According to Chloe's wishes, what happens to her eggs would be up to Joyce, and Joyce had them on hold.

It was a chance to keep a piece of Chloe alive for Joyce, and a chance to give Chloe a legacy. It was also a chance for Max to do the same. On October 2017, Max finally approached Joyce with the offer to be a surrogate.

And that is how Bill Caulfield Price ended up in the picture.

It was also how, aside from help from her friends and family, Max ended up being a single mom. She didn't exactly have it in her to pursue her dream of being a professional photographer, but she did a few jobs to keep her and Bill afloat. Mainly, she was working to taking family photos at the local mall, and she did a few jobs for the agency Victoria was working for.

Her bi yearly salary was 20,000 dollars, so she managed to get by alright.

Somewhere in the night, in between listening to News stories of potential terror attacks, and walking down memory lane, Max drifted off into dreamland.

\----

In the meantime, Bill Caufield Price was back in dreamland.

Yet again, he was watching King Arthur claim Excalibur, the knights of his round table, the affair of Lancelot and Guinevere. The addition of vampires, and werewolves, was not part of any stories of Arthur he'd learn of in school, and yet they were ever present in his dreams.

And finally, he was once again seeing Mordred's conception, birth. He see's Mordred growing up, seeing him as a playful child running through the forest. It was many instances, Bill thought Mordred could see see him too, but he was different as a boy then when he was a man. Honestly, Bill was half tempted to run in the woods with the four year old Mordred. But a presence was there that filled Bill with fear.

She wasn't his real mother, in fact she carved him from his mother Morgause's tummy when she was left to die.

When Bill see's her, he sees this ethereal being of crimson and scarlet; instinctively he just calls her The Red Lady, but over time he may call her The Blood Queen. She raised Mordred alone for the most part, and would often sing or chant that annoying catchy lullaby to him. In the same way, she filled Bill with fear, she was filling Mordred with arrogance, and above all else, hatred for his father. And unlike Mordred, Bill knew for sure that she saw him too, as she spoke to him, knew his name; he just never could remember what she was saying.

As his dream continues, he once again sees Mordred as he grows into the knight of legend. Although most legends may exclude the bit about Mordred being vampiric. Bill sees Mordred, yet again rallying his own band of knights, his rallying cry echoing in his ears ("Let us cleanse this farce with fire! Strike the fool who leads the liar! Let it all come crumbling down! Like the firebird from the ashes, we will rise to lead the masses! The strongest will emerge to wear the crown!").

When daylight finally came and Bill woke up just as he seen the visage of Mordred in the present day. Upon waking up Bill saw his mothers bed was empty. He guessed where she'd be next as he hopped off the bed and made his way down the hall.

When he found Max sleeping on the couch, he reached out to her head and gave her an impatient shake of her head, rousing Max awake.

"Mmm.. Chlo- what ?" Max mumbles as she wakes up to see Bill look at her "Oh, there you are you little monkey." She smiles teasingly as she sits herself up and lifts Bill onto her lap "Sorry, mummy had to take a call. Aunt Kate and Vicky are coming over, how does that sound ?"

"I've been having those dreams again," Bill says "About that knight man..."

"What was he doing this time ?" Max asks.

"Same thing as before. He was in jail in today times," Bill starts "But before I woke up, he was killing people in there before he got out."


	6. Mordred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here is chapter six.
> 
> Sorry if some of you where waiting. I would have had this up a week or so ago, but I ended up losing the files for it. Twice. As a result I spent the better part of my time rewriting what I lost and saving them to different files, and spent my day editing the chapter as it is now.
> 
> I wanted to introduce Daniel's arc this chapter, but his bits are still being written. Between this, an Until Dawn tie in story I am writing, and "Love's Sacrifices" I am going to be busy. That said, in this chapter we get our proper introduction to Mary Reid's arc, and one of this stories secondary antagonists in this take on Mordred.
> 
> Now to clarify something, that I probably shouldn't; only chapters dubbed Route A or B can refer to a specific ending these chapters refer too. If not listed as such, they can follow either "Bay" or "Bae", and are written neutrally in a way that could refer to either. I wrote a list of characters who survive the storm (Kate, Dana, etc) for "Route A", and will be featured in both routes. 
> 
> In neutral chapters, "Survivors" can either refer to Dark Room/Jefferson's survivors, or survivors of the storm, and "The Incident" refers to either the storm or Chloe's death.

**1920, Location Unknown**

Mary Reid didn't know when she has been this happy.

Two long years of misery, two long years of what she thinks is a dream of Heaven.

And it's one she never wished to wake up from, for she held the one she never thought she'd hold again.

Connor, her Connor. The child taken from her too soon in life and whose passing was just the start of his toddling years. Just as he was starting to form words.

Now that Mary was here with him, nothing else she left behind mattered; not London, not her murders; not even Jonathan, or whatever resentment she may have held for him.  
All these things left behind. Now it was only her and Connor. Mary wasn't exactly sure where the was. If she took a look around her, she may recognize this as a place of nostalgia. A summer home she and Jonathan spent much of their childhood and adolescence. Where she hoped she could take Connor one day.

This was all in the back of her mind. What was in the front of her mind was feelings of bliss, happiness, and love. It practically numbed her. The pain of the past, was all but forgotten. Like a bad dream.

Here, Mary would walk hand and hand with Connor, up a peaceful and serine road or stream. They'd make sand castles on the bed of a lake, and in some instances even run through the fields, or tending a garden.

Just about everything, she wished she could have done before Connor fell ill.

In the times Mary could speak, she'd say something along the lines of "Oh Connor, no pinchies. Mummy knows this isn't a dream." or "A flower necklace, for Mummy ?"  
When night took hold of this land, they would just sit under the stars, and Mary would tell stories of the constellations ("You see that ? Ursa Minor, the baby bear. And that one is Ursa Major! The Mama Bear!")

It's been like this day in and day out. It could have been anywhere from two years to two hundred years.

And then they day came when mother and son lay together in the middle of the field. The mind numbing sensation of bliss started to over take Mary she nearly felt herself pulled into a deep sleep.

Then she felt it - the disappearance in her arms.

Mary opens her eyes, to see Connor is out of her grasp, nowhere to be seen.

"Connor ?" Mary asks perking her head around "Connor ?"

She turns her head to see Connor standing at the edge the forest. At the back of her mind, she would have noted an increase of crows and ravens. Either flocking in the trees or calling out to her.

She could almost hear them say "CAW-NER, CAW-NER, CAW-NER!"

Had Mary paid any more attention, she would have seen the usually clear blue sky and golden sun has turned a dark red, blanketing the area as if it where sunset. The green, lush forested area also started to redden, and their leaves started to fall. As if by the fall and winter months started to roll in.

"Connor, don't scare me like that." Mary says already feeling a sense of dread fill her heart, as she tried to call her son to her "You don't run off from mummy-"

As she says this, Connor points off into the trees and says something inaudible.

When Mary makes her way to him, Connor darts off, quickly disappearing into the brush.

"Connor!" She screams as she bolts after her.

The next few minutes was a brush of red, mixed with the feeling as heart pounding fear. She would always see Connor just ahead of her. By the time she reached him, he would always run.

The air was sound with the calls of ravens - "CAW-NER, CAW-NER, CAW-NER!" and interspersed throughout their calls was the mirthful laughter.

The laughter was getting louder and louder, overpowering the sound of the birds. All the way until she reached the river bed.

It was there Mary say it. Connor was standing at the edge of the bank. And on the other bank, flew a flock of ravens, fluttering around this figure.

The ravens dispersed as the figure move through (on ?) the water towards Connor.

Connor looked back and forth between the figure and Mary. As he looked to his mother, he mutters out "Mama ?"

Mary, for her part was stunned. Silent and still like statue. Paralyzed in a mixture of fear and awe as the shape revealed itself.

It was a woman. Beautiful wasn't quite the word to describe her. She was ethereal. She had long red hair and a matching red and black dress and robes, both of which flowed as if they were one with the wind around her. Aside from the obvious red and black in her colors, her skin was pale, the whiteness stuck out as it seemed to glow.

As she made her way closer to Connor, she looked between the Mary and her son, and her full, red lips curved into a cocky and knowing smirk. Her eyes appeared white, seeming to lack any pupil or iris, but made up for them with the shades of red painted around her eyes. Mary could see the woman's dress was almost transparent, showing the woman's imposing, but curvey form beneath/through her clothing.

She was like the illustration pagan queen, drawn from an erotica novel. The air she carried about herself was one of attraction and dread. Like something out of an erotic nightmare.

As this ethereal woman reached Connor, she smiles down at the boy, who looked back at Mary with a look of genuine fear as she crouches down go the boy.

When Mary saw this stranger pick her child up, her instincts kicked her paralysis to the curve. She found her resolve and strength, and sprang forward.

"Stay away from him!" Mary shouts, ready and willing to rip this woman apart like a lioness, for laying so much as one hand on he son.

When she was within reaching (and choking) distance, the red woman glares at Mary which alone cause her to stop, despite herself.

Then the woman looks to Connor and began to sway left and right as Connor began to whimper. When she spoke, the woman's voice implied a Celtic origin.

 _ **"Ring around the rosie,"** _She sings.

"Let him go!" Mary shouts, finding her voice but faltering when she tried to find her will to fight.

 _ **"A pocket full of posie,"** _The red woman sing, kissing an increasingly uncomfortable Connor repeatedly on the cheek.

"Give me my son!" Mary all but lunges on the woman.

 _ **"Ashes, ashes,"** _The woman says turning towards Mary, forming a wide smile _ **"They all. Fall. Down."**_ She holds the boy in the air and tosses him up several feet.  
Mary found her will to run again, and just manages to catch a crying Connor, trying to shush him as the woman backs away with a clapping giggle.

Mary turns to the woman and red with a vicious glare "What the Hell are you ?"

 **"Exactly,"** The woman says with another giggle _**"Who I am, is a name long forgotten. Olympus has fallen. Asgard has fallen. Buried by the church, I stand as the last of the gods of old. Perhaps you heard my name in fables as you grew. To many, I am the last daughter of the Morrigan. My business...is with your family."**_

Mary says nothing, still a little in disbelief as this woman continues. Connor was burying his face in the crock of her neck.

 _ **"I...don't take many things personally, Miss Reid,"** _The woman says as she begins circling Mary " _ **I have lost a few great battles in my time - to warriors who thought they slain me; Beowulf, Arthur, Marshall. Not even Cù Chulainn could get the best of me. But your brother- he knows I will awake, and already he is on the path that can assure my destruction. My true death, so to speak. Already he's learned too much, and there is little I can do to stop him. I figured, you could be more persuasive."**_

At this point Mary finally found her voice.

"No, I can't." Mary shakes her head "I am dead to that world. Buried. As is whatever grief I have with my brother. I will be of no use to you and whatever fight you have with Jonathan."

The woman sighs sullenly _**"I was thinking you'd say that. You're trying to make this harder than you should be. But rest assure, I can make it the easiest decision you'll ever make."**_

  
"You have nothing to offer me," Mary says, looking at Connor "I have everything I could want here. There is nothing more I can ask for."

 _ **"I can give you something better. For you and for him."** _The woman answers her _**"Do you not know what the power of the Morrigan grants me ? I hold dominion over those who die under me. Be it by my hand, my words and will. Say, a plague. Just as you. Just as your son."**_

Just as the woman says this, Connor began to shake in Mary's arms, crying and coughing.

"Connor ? Connor are you-?" Mary starts as Connor breaks into a loud coughing fit.

The woman's smile became more and more mirthful as Mary does what she can to try to soothe the boy.

"Stay with me, Connor." Mary says reassuringly, but unable to believe it herself "Mummy's here, mummy's got you. It's all going to-"

Mary tries her best when a red smear of blood starts to form under Connor's nose.

"Connor ? Conno-" Mary is yet again when Connor began to cry louder and louder, blood splattering from his mouth with every cough.

As he did this, the child's skin started to blacken and crack at Mary's touch.

"Mama!" Connor wept again.

"Connor! No, don't!" Mary says as she starts to whimper "Please! Don't leave me again..."

Just as she says this, Connor fell through her arms and fingers and into a black heap of dust.

"No..." Mary whimpers, barley audible in her voice, tears already running down her face as she collapses into the dirt beneath her.

The woman smirk doesn't falter as she walks up to Mary and crouches down to her eye level.

 _ **"Poor, poor little Mary...surely you must see my reasoning now-"** _The red woman says brushing a lock of Mary's hair, before the latter lunges, tackling the woman into the river bed.

Mary holds her head down, choking her out with one hand and smothering her face with the other "YOU MONSTER! YOU TOOK MY SON FROM M-!"

With little effort but a lot of force, the woman shoves and Mary lands a dozen feet away in a heap as the woman casually gets up. Indigently huffing, she advances towards Mary, staring daggers.

_**"That is quite enough from you. I must say from one mother to another, one mustn't resort to theatrics. Truth be told, it's quite fucking embarrassing."** _

The woman looks down at and begins circling Mary as she wept on the ground.

"Why ?" Mary sobbed "Why me ?"

The woman in red continued circling Mary, casually drawing a mark in the sand with her foot _**"I have been bested a number of times Miss Reid, and I have been disappointed a number of times by my Disasters. But you're brother, and Miss Harriet Jones ? Have been one to many. And now he is well on his way to discovering the means of my ultimate destruction. I cannot awake to prevent him myself, and I feel I am to make an example of my sons latest example. And what better example than the first sin of his unlife ?"**_

Mary looked up in utter disbelief at what has happened and what she was hearing.

The woman crouches down, once again at eye level with Mary, her smirk once again forming.

  
**_"When you rose, you were a walking reminder of his original sin. A murderous disaster in the making. I wish I could have remedied that. Perhaps than, your brother wouldn't have killed you; how many of us wouldn't sacrifice a loved one for the world, or the world for a loved one ? It is a story told time and again, and it's always been one of my favorites. Would you not do the same, Mary Reid ?"_ **

Mary finally found her voice, however broken it sounded "You want me to kill my brother."

 **"No,"** The woman in red cooed, wiping a tear from Mary's eye and licking it off her finger _**"I want him broken; him and any other mothers son Myrddin sends to best me. Just as broken as you are; as you were when you first awakened."**_

"...my son.." Mary says in a timid voice.

 _ **"I have taken him. I can give him back. I can give him back in a stronger, more powerful form. Give you two the life you could only wish for."**_ The woman explains in a tender voice, brushing hair out from Mary's eye _**"Would he not be worth the world, Miss Reid ?"**_

Mary was still and silent for a moment before the woman spoke again.

**_"I can always leave you here to think about-"_ **

"What must I do ?" Mary asks "What must I do, just tell me..." she says in a broken tone of voice.

The woman's plump lips curved upwards in a self-satisfied smile, as she reached upwards to the top of her dress. Mary was taken aback as the woman's clasps and buckles opened. Once she had the bindings undone, the woman shoved the robe down her arms, revealing a pair of round, full breasts. Bringing own hand up, the woman clawed one of her finger nails into the nipple drawing out the smallest bit of blood.

 _ **"Drink."**_ The woman whispers, taking a cradling hold of Mary's head _**"From me."**_

Mary's eyes widened, and her mouth fell open in a gasp, but she felt the woman clutch her dark hair. Her eyes darted back and forth between the woman's pale eyed and her breasts, like she couldn't believe she was actually doing this.

She thought "playing" with other women in her living days, but her fantasies from way back when where in a more romantic or ideal context. Not this nightmare.

The woman then she used her grip on Mary's head to urge her forward...

\----

As she did before, when she awoke in the grave, Mary dug her way out with her fingers and teeth, through the dirt and the snow.

When she emerged from the grave her vision was dilated. She was disoriented, and confused, but she knew she wasn't alone.

In fact she was surrounded by dozens of dark shapes; many looked human but there was a certain boldness and non chalance about them. Even with the sight of a woman pulling herself from the grave. It was as if they were expecting Mary.

One of them in particular stood before Mary, walking up to her with an open embrace.

"Dìlseachd, dìlseachd, dìlseachd, a-mhàin dhi," she heard them, chant, through muffled voices.

As the apparent leader of this crowd took hold of her, she felt something like a needle digging into her neck.

"Dìlseachd, dìlseachd, dìlseachd, a-mhàin dhi. Dìlseachd, dìlseachd, dìlseachd, a-mhàin dhi."

Mary felt herself collapse into this figures arms, and the arms of many others, pulling and handling her like a rag doll as she fell into an exhausted heap.

As she drifted off, she heard the woman in red's voice speak out above them.

_**"A-mhàin mi..."** _

When Mary's eyes open she found herself in darkness.

At first it took a while for her eyes to adjust, but she soon realized she was in a bedroom.

It had a plain, if familiar look to it; no noticeable designs painted in the wall, just a set of mirrors, and a queen sized bed at the rooms corner. She climbed from the bed with a yawn and stretch. She turns to see a window, and when her eyes fully adjusted, she saw she was in a three story bedroom, and wherever she was, it was a cold winter night, with nary a star in sight.

Mary walks to the window, noting a plain white dress she wore, and how her dark hair was now down. As she looked out into the night sky, she began to collect her thoughts.  
As it call came back to her, Mary felt a shiver up her back, turning around as she heard a gasp.

Mary looks over her shoulder to see her door was open, and a girl standing in the doorway. She was clearly a handmaiden, had a short blonde haircut, and couldn't be older than fourteen to fifteen years of age. She was carrying a basket of clothes, which she dropped and spilled on the floor beneath her.

"Istenem!" The young maid says with a covered mouth "Sajnálom, I must inform the Mistress."

"Wait!" Mary says, stopping the girl before she could leave. When Mary walks closer, she notices healed marks on the younger girls wrists, and neck. Furthermore, the girl was very much thin and pale, as if feed upon for days, if not weeks.

"I'm sorry," The girl mumbles as she starts picking up the spilled clothes.

"Here, let me." Mary days, picking up a long and elegant blue dress "I take it this is my new evening wear ?"

"Igen," The girl nods "You were not supposed to be awake."

Mary nods a little, taking the dress and laying it neatly on her bed.

"Do you have a name ?" Mary asks, turning back to the girl.

"Kara," The handmaiden answers timidly "I was tasked by Mistress Elise to be your chambermaid."

"How long was I here ?"

"Six weeks," Kara answers "I was in charge of tidying your room, feeding you as you slept...bathing you." She sounded especially ashamed of the last bit.

Mary pauses and brushes that part off before asking "Can you tell me where I am ?"

"Vár Bíbor Mezők...Hungary." Kara says "I-I really must go. I am to tell the Mistress when you awake. If I keep her waiting, I sleep in the Vaságy. Again."

As Kara says this she grabs hold of her wrist in a defensive manner. This didn't escape Mary's notice and felt a pull on her maternal feeling that still lingered in the back of her mind.

"Go then," Mary nods "Do not disappoint your Mistress."

Kara gives another nod, before timidly leaving the room.

Mary turns back to her bed, looking over the dress. If she was to meet this woman, she was to make herself look presentable.

\----

Later in the night, after Mary got out of her nightgown and into the blue dress, she made her way down the halls.

She was led by Kara, and when Mary took in her surroundings, she wasn't too impressed.

Growing up with a background such as hers, Mary was a little accustomed to visiting manors - be it attending parties or family gatherings, summer homes, even the odd visit to a castle. She felt that if you seen one castle, you have seen them all.

Two things of not stood out; the portrait that seems to appear in every hall; they all depicted a rose, always with an exaggeratedly large thorns.

The second thing she noticed was all the servants. Little if any of them was any older than their adolescence. All wore white, form fitting clothes befitting of younger children. Pale and fragile, much like Kara, they too bore the marks on their wrists and necks.

They all averted their gaze when she tried to look at them.

Kara approached a door, and cautiously knocks.

"Belép," another woman's voice answers.

Kara nods and opens the door; the room was a particularly large library, little to no different that the ones Mary spent her early blooming years in. Mary notices how nervous Kara is staring at the fireplace before them.

There sat a woman in one of two chairs reading a nondescript book, and them staring at them expectantly.

She was about her mid thirties in appearance, and while as pale as her servants, her skin had a more lively hue to it. Her hair was an auburn brown, and shoulder length. She wore a black and white dress as elegant as the one Mary wore, but highlighted by the silver and jewels she wore on her person and in the dress itself, and a necklace of roses.  
Her eyes where as bright as they where blue, giving her a surprisngly lively appearance, and her lips curved into a knowing and expectant smile.

"Mistress Bathory," Kara does a curtsey bow to the woman "Your guest has been prepped and dressed as you have requested."

Mary turns her head back and forth between the servant girl and her Mistress, visibly caught off guard by the mention of that name.

"You are dismissed, Kara. Go now, least I call upon you again for personal expectation." The woman replies with a hungry looking smirk.

Mary notices the way Kara shifts and looks away under her Mistresses gaze, clutching her arm in a defensive manner. Kara hastily bows her head and leaves the room.

"So the kis galamb has awakened," The Mistress addresses Mary "Please, take your seat." She gestures to the chair opposite of her.

Mary wordlessly nods and makes her way to the Mistress.

"Mistress Bathory ?" Mary asks "Would you prefer if I refer to you by title or name ?"

The Mistress smiles and takes Mary's hand once she's close enough, kissing it as if she were a man trying to charm her.

"My name ? The Bathory name has haunted me for generations. No doubt you know the tales and rumors that slander my great, great, great, etcetera grandmother." The Mistress speaks as Mary takes her seat "I have tried to marry out of the name, but a suitor hears the name Elsie Bathory, they tend to flee. It's not a lonely existence of course; as you can see I have quite a collection of company from the war orphans. I give them a home, and meaningful labor, and ask very little in return than their blood, swear and tears."

"Hmm," Mary starts "And I take it that's the official story ?"

The Mistress giggles in a mirthful manner "A clever little dove, are you ? I'm sure you have other stories ? Well, out with them then."

"Why am I here ?"

"You are here," The Mistress starts "Because my higher ups, my own lords, wish for your protection and education."

"But I am quite educated in quite a few matters," Mary says unsure of where this was going "What more do I need to learn ?"

"Your place," Mistress Elsie answers. She gets up from her seat and circles Mary's chair, affectionately(?) brushing her hand across Mary's neck.

Mary freezes at her touch, mortified and confused about what was happening. She didn't move out of fear of this woman's ire.

"There is to be a feast within a fortnight. I am to host, and you, Miss Reid, are the guest of honor.

As she says this, Elsie's hand brushes down the side of Mary's side, increasingly making the younger woman uncomfortable.

She now stood close to Mary, staring down from in front of her as Mary looked up, feeling like a confused child. All the Mistress would have to do is sit and she'd be on Mary's lap.  
"Tell me Miss Mary," The Mistress asks softly "Have you've... been with anyone recently ?"

"I don't understand-"

"With a man and/or woman, is what I mean." The Mistress clarifies.

Mary felt herself flush and look away "N-not in - I don't know how long I have been carnal with a man. W-women I have considered-" She stops herself when she realizes what she is saying "Why is that important ?"

The Mistress takes Mary by the chin and makes her face her "Consider it part of your education." She leans down, and presses her knee softly between Mary's legs, causing the younger woman to gasp/moan and tense beneath her "As it is with my servants."

The Mistress backs away, this sudden action causing Mary to gasp again as she was just getting used to the sensation.

"For future reference, when your Mistress asks of you something of you, you will give it to her. Least you invoke my displeasure Understand ?"

Mary gives a shaky nod at Mistress Elsie's voice.

"Good." Elsie answers looking around "This Library, as with my servants, are at your disposal" As she says this, she takes Mary by the wrist and stands her up. "For each night that passes until the banquet, I will educate you here on our history one night, with your physical education on the next. My servants, will feed you, bath you, dress you, anything you deem fit. Kara will be your personal handmaiden, but if she is to displease you, feel free to ask for a new one. What say you Miss Reid ?"

Mary took a moment to take this all in before asking with a quiet voice "I don't have a choice, do I ?"

She knew she was in trouble with Mistress Elsie gave another mirthful giggle. She felt the mistress run her hand down her back, taking a pause on the spot were Mary's rump meets her thigh. This causes Mary to shake out more words.

"I have one other question." Mary says shaking as the older woman released her grip. "Can you tell me exactly what's happening to me ?"

"You were picked as I was," The Mistress answers "To carry our mothers spirit and spread her will on others such as us. I too, was once in your position. Marked by the Blood Queen."

Bathory looks up, paying close attention to the portrait of a knight hanging over her fire place.

"We are part of a...club. Although naysayers will call us a cult. The Mother's Children." Elsie starts "They found me when I first married, and gave me a place to make a name for myself. In return, I was to create what you may know as disasters. I was...sterilized, so to speak by my enemies. But what I lack in power I more than make up for in influence."  
Elsie turns back to Mary.

"It was them who found you. The last Disaster has, well, ended in disaster." The Mistress says with a shrug "And so we move to correct their mistakes. From what I've been told, your brother has learned to much already. To much of us, and to much of the Blood Queen. And that is why we called upon you Mary Reid. And why I will teach you in our ways. Any more questions ?"

Mary once again takes a moment to take in all this information "I take it we are to start to night."

"Tonight ? No, you take the night and what time you have to relax Miss Reid. Enjoy my manor or my servants, whichever you prefer. Many don't get a second chance at life...you should count yourself lucky you got a third one."

She once again takes hold of Mary's hand and leads her towards the doorways.

"Of course, it's never too early to share our history..."

\----  
That is how is started with Mary Reid.

Not a disaster or champion herself, Mary carried with her the spirit of the Red Queen; and wherever she goes and leaves her mark, the Red Queen makes her home.

Under the teachings and watch of "Elsie Bathory", Mary learned of whom to seek - it was the usual targets; hurt angered girls or young women, with the offer to "become whole". Most of the time these women were victims of abuse, neglect, traumas of any kind. Mary was picked because she understood what they needed, and would give it to them.  
They where the kind of women The Mother's Children prey upon the most.

To some, Mary was an essential key to the Mother's Children, the one who goes where "Mother" calls. And wherever that was, Jonathan and/or what allies he made fought against them. Disaster slain, rinse and repeat.

To others, Mary was a glorified cult prostitute - even though she didn't always use sex as a method on these girls. In fact, more often than not, she just had to play the role of a motherly figure for the girls who needed one.

Mary would travel throughout England, the Celts, Slavic countries and Denmark. She turned eighteen women in four years; and each and everytime, Jonathan would put them down when research turned fruitless. It went on for years, and those years soon turned into decades. Each one put no end of chaos on Jonathan Reid's shoulders.

In time she traveled throughout Africa, Asia, North and South America, where more of the same took place.

Every so often, Mary would encounter Jonathan over the decades. Some of them where more desirable than others. Wherever the Woman in Red calls Mary too.  
Over time, Mary learned more and more of the origins of the Mother's Children, the hidden role they had in myths and legends. It would seem they had a hand in every culture, whether recorded or not. Hence why they reach or try to reach into every country they can.

Mary was told of Mordred, the infamous knight of legend and myth; the bastard son, nephew and usurper of Arthur. To them, he was far, far more than that. The risen messiah, true leader of this religion of theirs; made as much for he risen within the generation of his "death". Made the mediator, for his direct connection to the Blood Queen.

He was said to lurk among his followers as a snake in the grass; devil in plain sight; chances are one has crossed Mordred's path whether they know it or not. They wouldn't see him ruling from the shadows, dressed in extravagance, as dark lords or the type are classically said to do. In fact, the alias he takes once he approached someone may surprise them. No one knows they met him until he wants them to know.

Or in Elsie Bathory's own words; "When I met him, he was working for my family as a stable boy named Mattheo."

In Mary's case, when she finally met Mordred, it was in this club in Toronto, Canada in 1973. He was a lounge singer, going by Gordan Wilson. He'd would preform covers of course; "Don't Pull Your Love" and "The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia" were favorites of his.

This was also how Mary found out she unwittingly met Mordred eight times since 1920.

And four more times since then.

For quite a while since she met Mordred, Mary found herself alone, separated from the rest of The Mother's Children. On one hand she found herself with more and more freedom over time, but every now and then she would hear the Blood Queen's call.

And on multiple nights, Mary would awaken crying from dreams of Connor, always within the Red Queen's grasp.

She knew she wouldn't be free for quite some time.

The time came when she heard the Call of the Red Queen again.

It was the year 1997, and it took her to a quiet, rather unassuming town in Oregon.

Mary spent no more than four days and nights in that town before she left, but as usual, she left the mark of the Red Queen there. And so the Queen's spirit lurked in the town unseen and undetected as she has before; watching and listening to the people of Arcadia Bay.

They had no way of knowing she was there, even as she stood beside them  
.  
At most, people would dream of her voice, or a raven. Many felt a something pull them to this town, and general area, from these dreams. Especially from the rotten and corrupt, though few ever reach Arcadia Bay itself.

One day, in the summer of 2000, she would watch unseen as two girls played a game of pirates in the sandbox. She became rather fixated on the one who was especially close to her father.

_**"Ah, there you are: a happy, innocent little tyke, aren't you ? I've been looking for you. I've been looking for you."** _

That little girl was the first of many girls in the county who had the Red Queen's attention, but this girl was her favorite life to play with.

As for Mary Reid; she never again heard the Queen's call until April of 2013. 

She was in Portland then, and would awake from a cold sweat, in her studio apartment.

With a haste in her step and as naked as the day she was first born, Mary reached for her bedside phone and dialed in an important number. It takes four rings before someone answers.

"Speaking ?"

"Lizzie ? Lizzie, it's me." Mary breathes out.

"Mary ? Mary, where are you ?" The voice of Elizabeth Ashbury asks.

"Portland, I've held a gala here in March, I thought you got my invites." Mary says with a sigh "It's not about that Lizzie...I need to see Jonathan. Is he with you ?"

"We're still looking for him..."

"Okay," Mary nods "I'm gonna seek you out. I think something is happening or is going to happen."

\----  
 **May, 2014, Los Angeles**

Rachel Amber - or Vivian Manning as she goes by - waits one night at a car in a parking lot.

She has just finished her latest trip to one of Steph's shows. She's made a near weekly habit of attending them over the past few months.

Coincidentally, or not son coincidentally, Cathy would always find where Rachel is sitting. Rachel low key thought Cathy was flirting with her, and made efforts to change her appearance slightly for whenever Steph would meet her face to face. And of course, Cathy would insist on meeting Rachel with Steph when the show was over.

"Do you always have meet and greets with fans, or is it just me ?" Rachel would ask.

"Only when they're cute." Cathy winks.

"Ah, so it is just me." Rachel would say coyly.

Rachel has seen Steph perform in as Lucy in _Jekyll & Hyde_; an extra in _Hunchback of Notre Dame_ , based in part on the Disney movie; and as Fiona in _Shrek the Musical_ \- unlike _Hunchback_ , _Shrek_ mostly kept away from using songs from the movie, which Rachel wasn't too big on. Honestly if the show opened with a live rendition of _Allstar_ that would have made her goddamn night.

Rachel was hoping Steph wouldn't recognize her but that was getting hard with how extensively Steph would look at her everytime they met.

What Rachel would do usually is color and cut her hair; currently she is wearing her hair short and in a comb over fashion; dyed black with bright red highlights.

So far it seemed to do the trick, just keep up the valley girl voice for as long as she can, and hope to got Steph doesn't connect the dots.

But Steph isn't stupid, Rachel would think to herself; in fact Rachel felt she herself was stupid for thinking Steph would fall for it.

That being said, so far it is working.

Every so often, Cathy would make a point to corner "Viv" after every show, and try to force a conversations with her and "Viv" would have to excuse herself when Steph looks at her too long. One night, "Viv" had a dog in the vet, whose results she's waiting for; one night she had visitors from out of town coming the next day, and she had to prep her house. Another night, she has a photoshoot early in the morning.

Tonight, she's run out of excuses. Rachel waits at the side of a car, pacing back and forth. She considered bailing on this meeting all together, when Cathy came walking at a fast past towards her.

"You came!" Cathy says enthusiastically.

"I...said I would." Rachel remarks, noticing Steph trailing behind at a slower pace.

"Cath, babe, she's going to say no, just leave her alone." Steph starts to say as she catches up, but Cathy ignores her.

"Steph and I, have been wanting to speak with you for some time," Cathy says pulling an awkward looking Steph to her side "We really appreciate you coming out here to show your support, and we've been meaning to show you our...gratitude for some time."

This causes Rachel's eyes to bulge and dart her eyes back to back between the two women.

"I...uh...appreciate the offer ladies." Rachel says with a flustered laugh "But, uh, I'm more of a dinner and a movie girl. Then we see where the night takes us."

This makes Steph blush and look away, and Cathy let's out a small chuckle.

"No, no, bien sûr que non," Cathy waves dismissively "We are having reservations for four in two days, and the other two flaked out on us," The French woman playfully bumps, Steph on the elbow. "This one, she never knew how to behave with others. Made me a break a glass last week."

"Mmm, is that so ?" Rachel says, keeping her eyes on Steph, specifically how uneasy she looks at Cathy "Well, I'll see what I have available this week."

"Perfect!"

\----  
Given the line of profession Rachel acquired over the past few months, she has also gained both lady and gentlemen callers. For this date Rachel picked out this girl she met a while back, Tracey.

Tracey was a local girl from Beverly Hills, an aspiring young actress and singer Rachel (as Vivian) met at a few parties and exchanged numbers with. They were not going after anything serious - nor did they expect any, given they are currently on different paths (Tracey taking a two year college course, and Rachel being a vampire who has to keep a low profile least she invoke the wrath of more powerful and dangerous vampires.) - but they follow each others social media and she was the most "available".

Be it for booty calls, or just simple girl trips - matter of fact in the past couple of weeks, they made a trip to see Demi Lovato in Mexico City, and Miley Cyrus in Los Vegas. Rachel had to take some drastic measures to make sure she wouldn't be exposed to the sun (most notably an all day shower sex session); on one hand, she knew the sun was supposed to harm her, but her own exposure have her little more than hives.

In short, Tracey was the closest "Vivian" had to a real girlfriend at the moment, and of course she was available for the double date.

At Patina Restaurant, the four women were dressed in the most suitably extravagant dresses they could get their hands on.

The actual attendance was rather quiet and anti climactic. Despite being arm candy, Tracey was the one who did the most talking between the four, along with Cathy.

It was background noise for Rachel, as she kept looking as Steph stared at her, and would excuse herself to the bathroom every few minutes when Rachel would notice he staring.  
Cathy would frequently make playfully snide jokes about Steph being on the rag this week.

On the flip side, Rachel was able to learn what happened to Steph after she left Arcadia Bay.

Steph - after leaving Blackwell for reasons she'd rather not bring up - found an arts school in the Seattle Area, before moving to California to study stage theatre. Unfortunately after her parents divorce, her dads been seeing a woman with rather…"conservative" beliefs.

Once Steph turned 18, she was significantly, and financially cut off from her family, with enough money for food or rent; not both. It was as the insistence of the new woman in her fathers life.

Luckily, Cathy would sweep after observing Steph's depression over her situation, and observing her while at theatre classes. Cathy was able to give Steph a home and money to get by; she also gave her connects she had in the stage industry.

It was a few acting gigs, and while she couldn't get any writing gigs for now, it was a start at at least. Everyone had to start somewhere after all.  
Currently, they are staying at a Hilton Suite in Beverly Hills. Steph usually didn't go out without Cathy.

"So Miss Manning ?" Cathy starts "Do you have a story ?"

Rachel nods, and starts out with the same story he told Tracey or her other suitors as "Vivian Manning". It was a pretty generic, aspiring model story; rich girl with big dreams and daddy issues. She would even bring up the casting couch as a edgy realness take on her story.

It was less of a cover story Rachel invented and was partially a confession on her part. Either way, the "Casting Couch" bit caught Steph's attention. Tracey was unfazed, as this was something "Viv" told her about, and she previously decided it was best that Viv should work on her own pace.

"Oh my god," Steph says under her breath "You mean to say you where-"

"No," Rachel shakes her head defensively "No, not in my mind at least. It wasn't sexual or anything. I've posed nude before, but that one time," she shudders a little "I think it had more to do with the guy who did it that screwed with me."

She thinks back to the Dark Room as the name slips from her lips before she could stop herself.

"Mark Jefferson."

There is a pregnant pause between the four.

"I take it you've heard of him ?" Rachel asks.

"He was all over the news so, yeah." Tracey speaks up "I hear he's a real monster. The kind of guy my dad and uncle would take back and-"

"Where are you from, exactly ?" Steph asks cautiously, looking a Rachel.

"W-why does that matter ?" Rachel asks back.

"It's just, the year before I left Oregon behind, the school I went to hired him out to teach. Was part of a bi-yearly tour he was on," Steph asks "I met him once, didn't really strike me as the monster type."

"They never do." Tracey adds.

Rachel looked at Steph, the way she changed. The way she looked back at her. It was familiar, all too familiar. And the subject of Jefferson, sent something going up her back like a snake.

"I''m- I'm sorry," Rachel mutters "I have to go. Mother Natures suddenly calling."

Rachel gets up and hastily makes her way to the bathroom.

She spends the next eight minutes hunched over the sink staring into the mirror.

She wasn't crying, but she sure as hell felt like it.

Steph has been having that effect on her lately. Rachel only ever sought her out was for that familiarity that nostalgia she had for Arcadia Bay. But with that brought reminders of the past she didn't welcome in comparison.

It brought her back to Jefferson, it brought her back to Nathan, and it brought her back to the fact that she should be dead. And yet here she was, a blood sucking corpse, walking and talking when she shouldn't. Having to pretend to be a girl who didn't exist in order to move around, least she invoke the wrath of much more powerful, blood sucking corpses. Even the name "Vivian Manning" was a reminder of Jefferson (specifically an art gallery they attended once).

Her train of thought was interrupted when Steph enters the room with a calm but reassuring smile.

"I'm just checking in. Are you alright ?" Steph asks, taking her place bedsides Rachel.

"Just needed to be alone with my thoughts," Rachel says truthfully "A lot has happened for me in just a short time, I didn't want to make a fool of myself."

"You didn't. These things usually mean you've been strong for too long." Steph puts a hand on Rachel's shoulder "It also means you might need one to share the load. I guess your friend Tracey is helping you with that ?"

"She has her own problems and doesn't need to be dragged down to much. We're more like friends with benefits than anything else; we aren't really that close." Rachel shakes her head, her eyes water a little. 

"It doesn't matter. It's my fault for bringing it up at all."

"No. It's really not." Steph nods "Look...I know I haven't been where you are, but I have seen the darkside too. By the looks of it, you needed to get a lot off of your chest."  
Rachel hears herself sniff a little as she turns "What are you saying ?"

"What I'm saying is," Steph starts, taking Rachel by the chin and making her face her "I think you need an old friend to talk to."

Steph says this with the confidence and comfort of someone who knew "Viv" for years. Which she technically did, but, Steph wasn't supposed to know that.

"But I don't know that many people here," Rachel says, looking away with a chuckle.

"Well," Steph says, cautiously putting her hand on Rachel's "You can start with me, Rachel."

This causes Rachel's head to perk up and turn towards Steph, whose comforting smile was replaced with a knowing one.

"S- Steph, I don't know who you-" Rachel starts to stutter before Steph places a hand on her cheek.

"You've always been a terrible liar, Rachel Amber," Steph says with a soft tone "You'd always dart your eyes whenever you are caught in one, and you scratch your ear when you get flustered."

Just as Steph says this, Rachel glances aside to the mirror to see she is doing just that.

Signing in relief and defeat, Rachel turns back to Steph.

"How did you guess ?"

Now it was Steph's turn to look in the mirror.

"Actress, Rachel, and a theatre student in case you forgot. Had my suspicions for a while now. I heard about what happened in Arcadia Bay. Really got to me, y'know ?" Steph says with a sigh "Been following the news and everything."

Steph shrugs before looking at Rachel.

"I've been hearing you are dead. You were Arcadia Bay's favorite victim. Things got out about you and your dad tried to make it a publicity circus about his lost daughter." Steph explains, and Rachel buries her forehead into her hands with a groan.

"Of course," Rachel sighs, shaking her head in her hands , before looking back at her "But how did you guess, Steph ?"

Steph now has a sad smile as she looks to Rachel "I know it's kind of stupid of me to say this, but...For a while now I don't think I got over my crush on you."

Rachel couldn't help but smirk and snicker at this.

"Shut up, it's true!" Steph blushes a little before her mood dours "I was really upset when I heard the news. Cathy teased me about it of course- and I just kept following the stories. One of them was about how your body disappeared from the morgue."

Steph sniffs a bit before she continues.

"So that night you came to my show, Cathy insisted on having me see you. She must have recognized you from pictures on the news, but when I saw you, I didn't want to believe it; I was almost relieved when you said you where Viv Manning. And Cathy kept showing me and teasing me, and I didn't know what to think." Steph shakes her head "Then you told that story. The daddy issues, the dreams of being a model...that monster Jefferson. I just knew."

Rachel has to choke back a sob before lunging forward and pulling Steph into a hug.

"I am so sorry," Rachel says "I am sorry I put you and everyone else through that; you, Frank, Chlo-"

"Rachel, I am not the one who needs apologizing too, and you are not the one who should be apologizing." Steph says before breaking the hug "But Rachel, I need to know the truth about what happened in Arcadia Bay; people just don't come back from the dead like that, and you certainly didn't feel like a ghost just now."

Rachel opens her mouth to start talking when the door swings open, and a women who had an unfortunate accident involving spilled drinks entered, grumbling herself at having to clean off.

"We'll talk about it later, I think we kept our dates waiting long enough." Rachel answers.

When they got back to the table, neither Rachel nor Steph said much. They just kept giving knowing looks to eachother.

By the dates end, Rachel and Steph where in considerably better spirits.

\-----

Rachel made her appointment for Steph three days later.

Cathy was out, had a nieces birthday to attend in San Francisco. Steph was playing sick. Steph wasn't allowed to have guests over when Cathy wasn't around, but what Cathy didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Rachel finally arrives shortly after the sun went down; the excuse she used was "I had a photoshoot in the morning and this afternoon."

When Rachel enters in the Beverly Hills suite, she let out a deep "Whoo" at how spacious the place was.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Steph replies to her.

Rachel is given the expected guest routine; take a seat, have a drink, make herself at home.

Rachel takes her seat on the living room couch and when Steph goes to get her laptop, she makes a note of all the pictures on the wall.  
They where all of Cathy. Specifically about her accomplishments; family photos, graduation photos, pics she's taken with celebrities; practically an entire vacation album.  
The only ones of Steph where of her in her more sexualized stage outfits; a couple of her sunbathing on a breach, including some pics of an irritate Steph, having her top stolen by Cathy while on the beach. Steph herself didn't look too pleased when she saw Rachel looking at these pics.

Rachel saw her discomfort before saying "I know it's not for everyone, but there's nothing wrong with the human body. You don't have to be embarrassed."

"I know," Steph nods setting up the laptop "Its just sometimes I want to feel like less than a trophy. I don't want to be someone else's bragging rights, you know ?"

  
Rachel's understanding nod cues Steph that she doesn't have to explain the bit where Cathy tossed her top and towel into the water at that beach, and made Steph retrieve it herself. And if Rachel averting her eyes on the laptops wallpaper was any indication, she didn't need to know why the pic was of an indigent Steph getting a shower curtain pulled open on her.

Luckily, Steph gets chrome up, and gets to the news articles.

"Okay, these sites are the one that about cover everything that happened after you disappeared. Total media circus, I'm surprised you don't know about it already." Steph explains "I was emptying out the dishwasher, so I'm just gonna finish up while you catch up." She says as she excuses herself.

"Okie, dookie."

With that, Rachel was alone to read for the next hour or so.

First few articles cover what happened with/too Jefferson and the Prescott's. Jefferson immediately got the FBI involved with his arrest, and the multiple cases such as his throughout Oregon and several other states. Supposedly the Prescott's were prepping to throw Jefferson under the bus as if he was the only one involved.

With the Prescott's scrambling to fix up the mess, a few of Sean Prescott's own skeletons in his closet slipped up. Particularly an incident involving a girl young enough to be friends with Kristin Prescott. And when Prescott Senior couldn't make these skeletons disappear, he too disappeared. Some think he entered himself into witness protection, and left his remaining family to deal with the fallout. With his many assets frozen, and Prescott lost total control of the situation.

So much corruption and decay underneath Arcadia Bay's shiny surface was unearthed, that what happened was almost a relief.

Almost.

The next articles covered...that incident. Rachel didn't need to be reminded about it.

Skip.

Next dozen or so articles cover the victims and what survivors. Some she knew, others she didn't. Some of these survivors where made out to be harrowing heroes, as well as would be victims; they spoke of this girl, Kate Marsh, and this other would be victim in Max Caulfield, who was listed as a "critical witness" to Jefferson and Prescott's activity.

  
Even Victoria Chase was on that list of survivors.

Rachel was familiar enough with Max from how Chloe would often bring her up. Seemed like a cool enough girl from what she heard or seen of her so far. After what she heard Max has been through and was almost put through, she really wanted to meet her and tell her everything is okay.

Despite this, the media put less attention on Max and more so on the likes of Kate Marsh or Victoria Chase. They where the favorite survivors.

Not to diminish whatever they went through, but the way the media covering them went about advertising them over talking about the others, rubbed Rachel the wrong way. It seems at times the media cared more about Kate and Victoria's respective backgrounds, such as religion or class. It felt like these "heroes" where being exploited for being victims.

  
It got so bad that Victoria's family had to step in to take her out of the spotlight. Kate Marsh was followed from her hospital, to her home to her church. Kate eventually stepped out of the spotlight herself after having a panic attack over having to speak of her experience at a few churches by her mother and aunt.

As luck would have it, survivors and others traumatized over what happened where being at a private clinic in Seattle; this is where Marsh, and Chase were both treated. Rachel almost felt like she was reading some Hollywood romance when news came out that Marsh and Victoria also came out (pardon the pun). Suddenly, Kate wasn't the perfect victim her churches wanted to exploit. It really made Rachel's day!

Or night as it where...

The next article or two was about Nathan Prescott. These made Rachel uneasy.

After what happened, and Sean Prescott let Nathan to take his fall after the fact; responses where mixed. As was Rachel's own feelings on the matter.

Depending on the outlet that covered Nathan Prescott, he was either a privilaged, Joffrey esque prince who got exactly what he deserved - in fact he deserves worse than what he got. 

To others, he was a poor, poor victim of mental illness who needed help; that he was the biggest, and ultimately the only real, victim in all this.

As Rachel read over this, she was as much a mixed bag as her feelings for Nathan. She remembered his problems, both affecting him and affecting others. But she also remembered him as her friend; someone she bonded with over the past few years, even grew to care about.

Same as Chloe, same as Frank.

Nathan was someone she could talk to, and Rachel liked to think she was someone he could talk to as well. A constant was their daddy issues, problems from home.

  
That's not to say, Rachel didn't talk to Chloe about her issues and visa versa. But the thing is, Chloe's issues and her own where apples and oranges in comparison. With Nathan, things just sort of clicked.

But now, Rachel wonders how much of it was real on Nathan's end. Now with Victoria Chase on Jefferson and Nathan's list; and Victoria was Nathan's best friend!  
Rachel shook her head before going to the articles she was going avoiding up until now.

The ones covering her.

After Victoria and Kate where no longer the ideal victims, and with no one left to exploit, that left only Rachel Amber. And her story went well beyond the Dark Room.  
After the fact, Sean Prescott's skeletons in the closest where not to only ones. Now the media was all to eager to get their hands on whatever Rachel's secrets came out, all too eager to make "Arcadia Bay's Favorite Daughter/Student" into the favorite victim.

Or at least the version of Rachel Amber they wanted.

See, the narrative was told by a number of character witnesses. At least those who could speak out. But it controlled primarily by James Amber.

The story they told of Rachel Amber was of this pure, perfect teenage girl. The ideal daughter, the ideal student from the ideal background and family. The perfect narrative foil to both Nathan supporters and detractors. All but crowned the "Princess of Arcadia Bay", taking to a dark place in her life at the behest of "Undesirable Influences".

To them, the "Tragedy of Rachel Amber" had more to do with her going off the "right path" than her actual disappearance, or even her death. After all, if she stayed with more desirable peers, wouldn't have died in the first place!

Who cares if her now troubled relationship with her father pushed her away from her family ? So what if James Amber's past relationships with Sera Gearhardt, and the fact he was paying for her silence came to light ? Why does it matter if Rachel was one of many young women groomed by Mark Jefferson ?

If you where to believe the narrative spun by certain news outlets and a few character witnesses (such as one Eliot Hampden), Chloe Price and Frank Bowers where more to blame for Rachel's death than either Nathan Prescott or Mark Jefferson.

And that's what really started to get to Rachel. You hear from the right news outlet, read the right comment sections ? You get a whole lot of bullshit painting Chloe as if she were the villain of Rachel's story.

The moralizing of Chloe and any noticeable slip up was outstanding. Especially from character witness statements;

  
_"Hey look, one time Chloe ate two cupcakes at a bake sale her mom catered for! And they say Albert Fish was a monster!"_

_"What's this ? Chloe once snapped at Victoria Chase over a catty comment on the anniversary of her father's death ? Who cares if they both apologized and talked things over ? Did she not know Victoria was being groomed by Mark Jefferson ?"_

Within the same sections or comments, what Nathan did was a trivial matter at best; such read a character witness describing him spiking a drink at a party and talking the witness into silence; _"Well what did you expect him to do ? Do you not know how serious mental illness is ? He needs help, not punishment!"_

And that's not getting to the Jefferson apologists.

When someone with fame or influence becomes a subject of controversy such as this, thru have as much passionate supporters as they do detractors.

Jefferson was a B List celebrity in the photography world, and was arrested for forty seven (and counting) cases of abduction, assault and murder across several states and several years. So simply put, Rachel was surprised at how much people where willing to defend him.

Then again, even Ted Bundy had charmed numerous women through his trial and even his imprisonment.

Rachel decided she was about done reading when she got to the part describing the death threats the "Blackwell Survivors" have been receiving for speaking out against him.

  
Rachel shuts the laptop with an indignant huff, closes her eyes and shakes her head. When she opens her eyes, she sees Steph sitting beside her, looking at her expectantly.

"I didn't want to interrupt you." Steph says.

"I didn't know the full story," Rachel shakes her head "This was a lot to take in."

"Yeah well, it wasn't a picnic for me to look through." Steph shrugs, which catches Rachel of guard.

"Oh my God, Steph; I'm so sorry-" Rachel starts, and instinctively tries to hug her, before Steph waves her hand dismissively.

"Don't worry about it." Steph says "I told you that you don't need to apologize to me. But Rachel, I need to know how you are...you know, not dead ? After reading all that about you, I think I am at least owed an explanation."

Rachel takes a moment and a deep breath, collecting her thoughts.

"Well Steph, old buddy, old pal, old chum of mine ? I don't know what to say. Fact of the matter is I was dead for months, and have been awakened by a cabal of vampires, worshiping a dark goddess of death and war. I rarely ever hear from them but they watch me like a hawk; and I think they want to use me for something. Oh, and I am a bloodsucking leech myself and have to wean on blood bags least I terrorize the good people of Los Angeles as the half human ghoul I am. I got a working air conditioner though, so that about checks everything else."

That was what went through Rachel's head. What went out of her mouth was.

"Look Steph, my death ? Part of a cover up. After what happened with Jefferson and Nathan, I was left for dead. These people found me and tried to keep me safe." Rachel says, partially telling the truth "Think of it like...an informal witness protection deal. I was supposed to wait until everything blows over...and you should know the rest."  
Rachel gestures to the laptop to empathize her point.

"Yeah, I know." Steph nods "I wanted to reach out to people, y'know ? Drew, Mickey ? But you can guess how much luck I had in that department. I wanted to go to the service, but Cathy gets the first and only say in trips."

Rachel nods, and because it felt like the right thing to do, pulls Steph into a hug, catching the girl off guard. Steph nearly flinched away from the hug, before she returned it.

  
"I am so sorry- So sorry, that I don't think I can apologize enough-" Rachel starts to apologize before Steph cuts her off.

"And I'm sorry you where put through that monster," Steph replies "But Rachel, I have to know- have you tried reaching out to anyone else ? I think I shouldn't be the only one-

  
"No!" Rachel says defensively, breaking the hug before collecting herself "No, I already took a risk seeking you out. And even then I think that was luck more than anything else."

  
"But Rachel, what about your pare-" Steph starts before Rachel interrupts her.

"I will deal with that when the time comes," Rachel starts before settling on her excuse "Look Steph, a case like mine - a highly public case like this; people are going go be asking questions when or if I just come out of no where. And after everything that happened in Arcadia Bay, especially with Prescott senior on the loose, it's probably for the best that I stay Vivian Manning for the time being. Just wait until the trials over at least...it just doesn't feel safe you know."

Steph takes a moment to take this all in and nods "Okay...Rachel, I know it's not much coming from me, but as a friend, I promise I will do everything within my power to keep you safe...if you let me."

Rachel gives a beaming smile and nods "Thanks Steph, and it actually does mean a lot. But remember; in public, I am Vivian."

Steph smiles drawing a cross across her heart and holding her wrist out; she has only one pinky finger out. Rachel looks and holds out her own pinky, wrapping it around Steph's and locking them together.

The two girls laugh at the gesture but unlocked their fingers from eachother; a pack more binding and sacred than a handshake.

After a moment, Steph breaks the silence.

"So, what do we do now ?"

Rachel sighs and leans back on the couch "I don't know. I feel like I can't just leave after letting all that out, or taking all that in...and it wouldn't feel right leaving you here by yourself."

Steph hesitates before she comes up with a suggestion.

"I've been wanting to see that new _Godzilla_ movie. Cathy doesn't want me watching stuff like that; says it's boy stuff. And I'm usually not supposed to leave our suite alone...so I guess I could use a plus one."

Rachel takes a few seconds to think about it before nodding " _Godzilla_ , huh ? Well looks like my schedules clear for the night."

"Perfect," Steph says getting up from the couch "We go now we can be forty minutes till the next show."

"Well then," Rachel says getting up after her "Time stands still for no woman."

"Just let me get my coat and wallet." Steph says heading to her room at a brisk pace.

When the two girls left for the movies, unbeknownst to either of them, a many cam from behind the living room TV was recording everything.

\-----

**June, 2014, California**

Rachel woke up feeling a tad annoyed, and on the edge.

Any other day, she would make some excuse to hang out with Steph or any number of gal pals, but lately Steph had to check in the hospital. Few days ago, she had an accident with the oven; the stove slammed on her hand and now she was bed ridden over it.

Left in Cathy's care of course.

If that's not enough, Rachel got messages the past couple days from her handlers. It was rare when they reached out to her, usually just to remind her of her place.  
Recently she has received a new message; "You've enjoyed your seven month vacation long enough. Boss man wants to see you."

Rachel read up on to know about the boss man; Mordred of Fey, Bastard of Arthur. Apparently the stories told of either King or Usurper did neither justice. In short, Rachel was not just meeting an apparent celebrity within the vampire community...but a villain from a story book she read when she went through that mythology phase as a kid.

How much of it even counted as mythology at this point was up for debate. In the past few notes she read on this cults history, she learned not only King Arthur and his Knights had their hands in the vampire cookies jar; she learned of Cù Chulainn, the "First Champion of Myrddin" (or as he was known then, "Lugh"); Beowulf was the second champion, and Grendel was a damphir - the first damphir in fact.

One thing that confused her was how the sunlight was supposed to burn and even kill vampires. Not something Hollywood made up, but recorded instances in their history; that's how Cù Chulainn and Mebd, finally died. The most the sun did to her so far was make her sluggish and develop a skin rash. She'd have to look into that.

Rachel was told that a limo will pick her up the coming nights. His one request to her was to make herself look presentable; or just to doll herself up as usual.

The night the limo came for her, Rachel washed the colour out of her hair, presenting it in a wavy style; she dolled herself with makeup to give herself a goth aesthetic; black cocktail dress, white (fake) fur coat and thigh high leather boots.

She would be driven out of the city, and Rachel would otherwise think of those gangster movies where they drive out to the desert, put two in the back of the head bury you in an unmarked grave.

Would that even work on her at that point ?

Luckily, Rachel was occupied with small-talk with her driver; she was probably the last person to talk to about having to deal with cheating and divorce drama in the family, as well as how family is good support system...but it seemed cathartic for him.

\----  
The ride pulled to a stop at a high rise in Malibu, where she was greeted by four security guards. One of which opened her door, while the other paid off the driver.

"Vivian Manning ?" A guard asks.

"How'd you guess ?" Rachel asks as she steps out of the back door.

"It's on the top of the guest list. We're here to escort you."

As the limo drives off, said guard points up the building; coming from the windows on the first four floors, and the loud and muffled music within, Rachel quickly realized this was a party.

"Boss man's penthouse is the top three floors. He's waiting for you upstairs." The guard explains "You will call him Miles Winters when you see him. Understand, Miss Manning ?"

  
That was all the cue Rachel needs to know that they know.

"Yes," Rachel nods "Of course."

The four led her into the building, through the main lobby, towards and into the elevator.

Up they went and Rachel felt time still.

She didn't know what to make of this really. She was meeting Mordred - _that_ Mordred - and knew little of what to expect.

All she knew was she was picked for a purpose. What that purpose is must be something dramatic if the cults history was any indication.

She has heard how they take "wronged women" and turned them into monsters. And if the narrative she was told is true, she was picked to be a killer.

Thing is despite everything, Rachel never seriously considered herself a killer; or at least not a murderer. She could see herself getting into a fight, maybe taking a life in her own defense and that of someone else. These fangs of hers were made for chomping, but she is not one who would chomp on the life of the innocent and drain said life from their bodies.

When they reached the third floor up, Rachel was immediately hit by flashes of red, green, blue and purple.

Rachel flinched a the immediate flashes. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to a sight.

You see one pent house, you see them all really. Same goes for rave clubs and strip clubs. Whatever Mordred was like in this day and age, he sure knew the party/playboy atmosphere for sunny California. She just didn't expect he would go all out on the image.

A guard takes Rachel by the shoulder and says "His eyes are on you, you know."

"What ?" She asks back.

"Mr. Winter." He says "He's waiting for you upstairs."

"You're not gonna escort me ?"

"Sorry Princess, someone's gotta stop the drinks from being spiked." The Guard points to a door on the far side of the floor "Just follow the stairs. Top floor."  
"Thanks," Rachel nods as she made her way through the crowd.

It felt and looked typical rave or strip party in La-La Land – loud music, booze, drugs and lap dances, people going to other rooms to take these "dances" further. The speakers shook through the house with the beat of Eminem and Nate Dogg's _Shake That Ass For Me_. The party was in full swing, and if some of the looks Rachel got as she made were any indication, some knew she wasn't human anymore.

Step by step, Rachel refused any drinks offered to her by the men in here. Women too. She had to keep a clear head. Rachel nodded at some of the guests who wave at her as she combed the crowd.

One song ends, and the other starts with _Beautiful Dangerous_ by Slash ft. Fergie.

Despite refusing any drinks, Rachel found herself getting engrossed in the atmosphere.

Normally, Rachel was like a force of nature at these things; any strip club she visited, she would get a lap dance with no less than three strippers before leaving; house parties, she'll drink you under the table just to show off her lung capacity; at a rave, any encounter was a dance off, even if it's with someone working the bars.

As of now, something was off for her. Other than a preppy smile and sharp swing of her hips, shaw-shaying with each step.

Making her way to the stair well, the second floor up from this party was a bit of a whiplash. The music was faded, just barley a muffled beat. The hallway was dark other than the lights in each room.

In these rooms, it looked they where shooting porn. Six bedrooms and a bathroom, and not a single closed door. Rachel took in the sights as she passed each door, and it brought this feeling of adrenaline running through her head. Rachel would give a nod, a thumbs up, or a polite "No thank you" when someone asked if she'd like to join.

She passed a room with two guys copulating with one girl at the same time; said girl looked more into it than the guys. Next room she passed had two girls performing oral sex on five different hunks, one seeming to be new to this and needing tips from her partner.

Room number three had two guys taking turns on eachother, while a third was waiting for his turn. The room after that had an orgy of eight women an a sign beside it reading "No Toys or Boys Allowed".

Room number four had two women having sex while a group of men and women cheer them on, making suggestions of what to do to eachother. Room number five had a hyper sexualized version of the "Spin the Bottle" between a group of college aged male and female players; the bottle landed with a young man about to preform oral sex on another.

  
Next was the bathroom...she doesn't want to THINK about what was happening in there. Some people just have their limits.

The last room was of a threesome between three woman, one in her early twenties an the other two in their late thirties, by all appearances.

As she walked past the last doorway in the hall, she shuddered a little. That feeling she had in the hall, that "musical energy" (for lack of better words), simply faded. It was like waking up from a summer day, and into a winter one. It was like she walked through a fresh crime scene, and brought with her a feeling of rot in her stomach.

  
It that was the high, this was the hangover.

It brought back memories of when she watched _Requiem For a Dream_ when she was a kid; you'd think that she'd be scared out of drugs and open sex after that. And yet here she is.

\----

The last floor was another standard penthouse. Not alive or buzzing like the party three floors down. Most she could say of it was there was more windows than walls.

  
There was one light on, a blue one at that, and that was outside the building itself and on a balcony. There was a single figure, sitting at a table on said balcony, looking over it's shoulder and waving her over.

Rachel took a deep breath "Here goes nothing, dollface."

Rachel made her way to the balcony, noting the glass door was open, and stared down the man looking over the city, paying her nothing but a nod.

The man looked to be twenty nine years of age; he was pale for certain, and the light seemed to make his skin shine. He well built frame, broad at the shoulders and narrow at the hip. The way he had his feet up on the table shown he was about as tall as Frank or Mark. He was certainly attractive, could pass for a male model. His face certainly looked liked he was on a magazine cover.

In this light, his hair color was indistinguishable, but Rachel guessed he was a dirty blonde or a light brunette. It was a short hair cut, with a cowlick on the top. He wore a set of shades and appeared to have a 5'O Clock shadow growing in. He had this calm and collected smile, and wore a set of leather boots, dark jeans, and a dark red leather bomber jacket.

As he finishes up a bottle of whiskey, he regards Rachel and gestures her to take a seat in a chair opposite of him. As Rachel did so, he spoke; he had a light accent, she couldn't tell if it was British or Scottish.

"Helluva view, isn't it ?"

"I guess," Rachel nods "Are you him ?"

"I am a him, yes." He answers her "Despite some...recent depictions."

"But are you...Mordred ?" Rachel ask cautiously.

He turns to her with a raised eyebrow and takes off his glasses; his green eyes seemed to glow a sharp contrast with the blue light "Bold of you to be throwing my name around like that...Rachel Amber."

"I mean", Rachel shrugs "If no one else is here, I suppose we could go by real names tonight."

"Fair enough," Mordred chuckles, taking the base of his bottle, tossing it up in the air and catching it "I see you've been playing my game, Miss Amber."

"What game ?" Rachel asks.

"Chameleon," Mordred answers "Always being someone else to someone else. Been following your story and all, eventually taking time to keep a personal eye on you."

"You were watching me," Rachel says "How much did you see ?"

"Well, let me tell you this," Mordred starts "You met me twice when we dropped you into LA; but you may not recognize me, but we also crossed paths in recent weeks. And as of late, thanks to that little trip to Mexico City, _Heart Attack_ and _Let It Go_ was stuck in my head for weeks."

Rachel didn't know how to react to this, so she says the first thing that comes to mind.

"Sorry about that," Rachel says meekly "Were you in Arcadia Bay as well ?"

"Not since '97. I haven't even set foot in Oregon in about a year. As for that game of Chameleon," Mordred replies "You've been playing that game for so long, and yet only recently, have you been playing it right."

"And you want to teach me."

"Let us say, lead by example." Mordred replies "When the time comes, it is I who shows Mother's newest champions what to do when the time comes."  
When the time comes. Rachel was afraid that it was going to come to this.

"You see," Rachel says "I don't think your mother picked correctly when she picked me...I don't have what it takes."

"Care to explain ?"

"I've been doing some looking into your religion. I keep seeing all this apocalypse stuff here and there and-" Rachel was at a loss for words as she scrambled to find them "That's not me. Not who I really am."

"Isn't it really ?" Mordred asks with a cheeky grin "You think we're just going to wipe out the world ?"

"What would you call it ?"

"Clearing out the filth." Mordred says as he gets up from he seat and walks to the edge of the balcony, empty bottle in hand "You see the filth of this world, the empires and governments as you know it. How many times has a country gone to war over a mineral ? How a King let his reign end with a failed marriage ?"

Mordred tosses the bottle of the balcony before turning back to Rachel.

"How many injustices does the world have to suffer before bringing an end to it all ?"

"By killing people ? Look," Rachel says getting up from her seat "I read _Animal Farm_ in Freshman year, I know where this kind of revolution leads too."  
"What would you prefer ? That those who harm you and the system that protects them go unchallenged ?" Mordred asks, taking a phone out of his pocket and looking up a news article "I would think you of all people would wish for true justice."

He hands Rachel his phone, showing yet another article about James Amber and what his family lost and demonizing the people who tried to help her. As usual, Jefferson, Prescott - the actual people who killed her - was something more trivial when it came to what happened to Rachel.

"We can help with that, y'know." Mordred remarks "We can pull a few strings bring Mark Jefferson to you...Prescott Jr ? That's a little complicated. Senior ? Missing and unaccounted for. I've seen enough of you to know you don't fancy yourself a killer, but even you may feel the desire for revenge."

Rachel looks away from the article, which Mordred notes.

"Your eyes speak a lot for you, Miss Amber. But I need to hear your words." Mordred says as he flips through the names "What about him ?"

Rachel looks back to see a picture of James with a fourteen year old her.

Rachel just closed her eyes and dwelled in thought as Mordred continues to speak.

"For what it's worth, I am not trying to start a war...if I could help it. These days, we aim to be a little more insidious. We can…bring him to you. We know of how he wronged you."

Wronged her ? It was James keeping secrets that pushed her away; it was his own lies that being parroted for the media narrative. The Amber's were seen as an inversion of the Prescott's (at least those that don't bend over backwards to defend Nathan), so of course the perfect missing rich girl, would contrast the poor, troubled mentally ill rich boy.

  
Once again Mordred speaks; "He hurt you. Not like Jefferson did, but still, he tried to...hurt your birth mother."

Rachel looks up at Mordred as he says this.

"Like, I have been there before...my father tried to kill both my birth and adopted mother. I've walked a mile in your shoes so I can simply say, it's-" Mordred stops, glancing up at the sky briefly to think of what to say "That's rough buddy."

"Your mother...the Queen." Rachel says in a half effort to distract from the subject.

"The Blood Queen raised me, brought me up where I would have died. Had it not been for her, I would not be the man I am today." He says plainly "My birth mother...slain by the son of the man who raped her own mother. I have known for sometime, that she died so that I would live in her place."

As Mordred says this, he looks like he's walking deep in his own thought's and memories, which allow Rachel to explore her own.

She thinks back to the picture, specifically the trip they were on. She was twelve and her family wanted to take a trip across Canada. Or at least a couple of provinces; Rachel particularly remembers when they visited the Anne Of Green Gables house on Prince Edward Island, and Fairview Lawn Cemetery in Nova Scotia.

The latter trip is where the picture was taken; specifically, they were to join in a Titanic tour, and they took a picture at the grave of James' great grandfather - a man who was on the fateful voyage, and the only one in his family who didn't make it.

Throughout that trip, a younger Rachel would make unfunny jokes about her stepmothers name being Rose. Rose laughed, but Rachel knew she was just being a mom.

  
Honestly, Rachel thought back to how much of a daddy's girl she was. He was the one who encouraged her dreams of being a model as a kid, being an actress or photographer. But that changed years ago for Rachel. She probably wouldn't be as resentful if her father was more honest to her; she isn't exactly an honest person herself.

It's the lengths he went to - what he tried to do to Sera - That is what pushed Rachel away. All Chloe did was tell her the truth. And it was James levels of dishonesty that made Rachel question everything in retrospect; just how much of it was real. The fact that James made her own death more about him and what he wanted Rachel to be all but solidified this to her.

Maybe this was his way of getting back at those who stole his perfect daughter ? That's all her death was to him.

Rachel has no such thoughts on Rose though. Whenever she thought back to or read up on Rose, she seemed passive in comparison to her father. Rose, despite not being her blood mother, felt more real to her than James after the fact. Rose was the one who taught her how to ride a bike, drive a car, tie her shoes. She was there for every sick day and nightmare when he was little; every scrapped knee and flu shot.

It was these moments Rose brought up on the rare occasion she spoke out about Rachel. It honestly tore Rachel a little more than it did with her father.  
Rachel hears a fake cough and turns her attention to an expectant looking Mordred.

"One word, and one call is all it takes, Miss Amber." He says calmly.

Rachel didn't notice until now how watery her eyes were. She wipes them quickly before handing back the phone.

"I'm sorry, but...No." Rachel shakes her head "No, I can't put my step mom through that. Not after all that."

"Suit yourself," Mordred nods "But if you prefer we can talk business."

"Business ?"

"For when fun time is over!" Mordred answers with a bit of enthusiasm "You didn't think my family took you into the fold without out of the goodness of our hearts did you. We can show you your place in this family, and how you can help us make the world a better one. Be as a pawn or player."

That doesn't sound like you're giving me a choice."

"Think of life like," Mordred stops to think of the right word "A video game. Are you a gamer, Miss Amber ?"

Rachel crosses her arms "I am more impartial to visual novels, but go on."

"You've got the players and the player characters." Mordred raises his left hand to empathize his point "Some people, they are pawns in the game of life. They can only move from one goalposts to the other with the guiding hand of a higher power. That is how the pawn wins the game." Mordred raises his right hand to further empathize "Then you've got the player, the one who pushes their hero or protagonist on to the end of the game; some cases make the hard choices for them."

Mordred gestures to the penthouse inside "I do so for my businesses. And playboy Miles Winter ? He likes to take his work home as you can see."

Mordred gestures Rachel to follow him inside and she does so.

The lights flicker on when they reach a coffee table in his living room, Mordred has Rachel take a seat. Rachel does so, sitting on the couch while Mordred goes through a nearby shelf.

"When you say you take work home with you-" Rachel starts.

"Not me. Not Mordred." He interrupts her "To them I am Miles Winter; playboy on the streets, player on the sheets." he says as he hands Rachel letters to read "I have four strip clubs in this state alone and all kinds of connections in the porn industry."

"Really ? I would not have guessed." Rachel replies with a blunt sardonic tone, thinking about the "activities" going on downstairs.

"Sex sells, Rachel Amber." He replies "So long as it's under studio contracts and no one sleeps around in my clubs, I am as good as gold. Keeps the money in Mr. Winter's pocket."  
Mordred passes her papers with a red mark across their tops.

"Gerald Wilfred," Rachel says, reading the name on them.

"Reported drug boss, but the law hasn't found anything of him. No concrete addresses, no pictures, no witnesses willing go talk. Nothing. And a player of Chameleon, much the same way Rachel Amber and Vivian Manning are."

"He's you," Rachel nods, quickly picking up on what he's saying.

"You catch on fast kid."

"I mean, you all but told me yourself." Rachel says with a snark and a shrug.

"Yet there is still a lot to learn." Mordred says with a smirk "I rarely make public appearances, you know; a lot of the time, I rarely meet my employees face to face. And when I do, I try to make sure they don't know it's me. Email here, phone call there. So long as two people who know my face don't meet, I'm in the clear. It was easier twenty or so years ago, before social media picked up..."

"And your businesses ? They overlap, do they ?" Rachel inquires before she connects the dots.

"My ladies and my gentlemen, work more than for money. In fact they are willing to give their hard earned money for products grown on Gerald Wilfred's farms." He answers her.

"You mean to say you're-" Rachel starts before she's interrupted.

"An salesman and employer who provides jobs, products and services for those who need it and have no other opportunities." Mordred says in an insistent tone, before he calms down "Look, whatever you may think of me, everyone from the lowest dealer to the highest escort have a place in the empire to come. They are the bricks, we are the builders. I must ask, of one who is as...active as you, what is your opinion on the sex industry ?"

Rachel sighs, and takes a moment to think before she answers "First and foremost, I believe what a person does with their bodies is up to them. Be it a sex worker or exotic dancer. As long as it's their choice, what am I to say ?"

"Exactly," Mordred says with another smile "Although there are instances where we need to guide their choices. For without us, they are lost." He looks over Rachel's face, sensing her uncertainty as she looks away "If it made things easier, why not I treat you tomorrow ? I'll give you a tour of our barn, our "pen" in Desert Shores. Give you a chance to look at the dark side and think things over. Perhaps you'll find something that tickles your fancy ?"

"What, do I have a choice ?" Rachel asks.

"Not really no," Mordred answers "Tell you what, I'll let you sleep on it." He points down a hallway "My guest room is the second door on the right. Me ? I got business elsewhere tonight."

"Well," Rachel pauses "Looks like I got more to gain than to lose do I ?" She adds with a cheeky smile like she couldn't believe this was happening.

To be fair, if you met an Arthurian Knight - who offered you a place to sleep for the night - running a pornography studio - ran an orgy under his residence - offered to show you where he works - and spent the next evening showing off a 2004 Honda Ridgeline like it was a prize horse...you'd have a hard time believing your situation too, wouldn't you ?

\-----

Rachel was in a considerably better mood, but uneasy.

Mordred shed his "Miles Winter" persona, in favor of "Gerald Wilfred"; a different, more "country" style of shades, a set of blue jeans, work-boots, and a dark grey hoodie that made him look bulkier than he actually was.

It brought Rachel's thoughts back to Frank - honestly them hitting the row like this brought back this time she and Frank went on a camping trip together.

**Flashback begins**

_It was June 2012; Chloe left Arcadia Bay to attend her grandmas birthday. It was on the Price side of the family, and supposed go be a family affair, which is why Rachel couldn't come with, as Chloe says; by all accounts Joyce and David were an awkward presence to say the least._

_Rachel and Frank ended up taking a trip of their own, to this park out of the county. It was a camping and hicking trip, and on their trip Rachel hoped she would see something big and wild._

_Be careful what you wish for, as some would say._

_Frank was out picking up firewood, and Rachel went about taking nature photos, when she spotted two bear cubs play wrestling in a clearing._

_It was such a sight that Rachel couldn't resist taking a pic. She wasn't satisified with the first two, and cautiously made her way toward the clearing._

_She then heard a bellow behind her._

_Rachel turns to see Mama Bear twenty yards away, with Rachel standing between the mother and her cubs._

_Rachel remembers the "Ahfffuck!" that slipped out of her mouth._

_She tires circling put of the bears way, but it made two bluff charges at the direction she stepped._

_The second one made Rachel trip onto the forest floor, and unfortunately her camera ended up nearing the mother._

_"At least it's not raining," Rachel thought in a gallows humor sort of way. This was at the back of her mind; what was in the front of her mind, and out of her mouth wasn't coherent enough to put into words but roughly translated to "FRANK! BEAR!! HELP!!!"_

_The mother bear reared up onto her hind legs and let out a roar that made all but one raven fly from the trees._

_Rachel's mind was scrambling. She tried to remember what James taught her in her girl scout days about what to do in a bear attack. But that wasn't what kept her attention; her attention was squarely on the bear going down on all fours and making her way towards her._

_Rachel tries to crawl backwards and turned her head to see the cubs scrambling their way up a tree._

_That is when she hear the gunshot, echoing around the area._

_The mother bear turns around, and Rachel sees Frank shouting and shooting his handgun into the sky above her._

_Rachel looked back to see the cubs, and shouts to Frank while the bear has her attention on the man, and his yapping little dog._

_"Frank! Don't! The cubs!" She shouts to him again._

_Frank looks up to see the little ones in the tree, and starts backing away, using one had to hold Pompidou by the collar._

_"Get back to the RV," Frank shouts to Rachel "Now!"_

_Rachel scrambles again to find her feet, panicking as Mama Bear had her eyes off her. She is quick to pick up the camera, but time seemed to slow when she passed the bear herself._

_Once Rachel reached Frank, the mother bear was still standing her ground, and makes another bluff charge, while the two ran back to the RV. Frank stayed behind a few more seconds before catching up to Rachel, still holding Pompidou's collar._

_By the time they reached the RV, it seemed Mama wasn't chasing them, but better safe than sorry._

_Once they where in, they pull the RV out of their makeshift campsite - Frank was loudly lecturing Rachel, asking what she was thinking, while trying to calm Pompidou down._   
_Rachel ? She was calming herself with a hastily made joint, still on the edge of tears._

_"Rachel? Rachel!" Frank says to get her attention "What the Hell where you thinking ?! You've could have been-" Frank stops himself to banish the thought._

_"I'm okay! Okay ?" Rachel snaps back, as Pompidou climbed back onto her lap._

_"No! It's not okay!" Frank says "Even if no one heard my shots, sooner or later someone's going to find the casings! My guns registered in my name, Rachel! Shooting in a park ? People are going to go looking for me, track me down in Arcadia Bay, ask what the hell I'm doing out there."_

_"Just say you where with your girl and she was attacked by a bear. You don't have to say who..." Rachel says, hugging Pompidou close to her body._

_"I'm sorry," Frank breathes out "Its just- if I lost you back there ? That would be on me."_

_"No, it wouldn't." Rachel says._

_"I can read the headlines already; local drug pusher takes rich daughter of the district attorney out to the woods, probably to do who knows what to her, and gets her eaten by a bear!" Frank says "Oh, and said drug dealer worked for Damon Merrick, you know the guy who stabbed you ?"_

_Rachel begins taking calm and deep breaths, letting her eyes water "I'm sorry, okay ?"_

_Frank sighs "No. No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken you."_

_"But Frank," Rachel starts "I was the one who wanted to go, remember ?"_

_Frank laughs pretty humorlessly "I shouldn't make plans with you while blacked out. What can I say, Rachel ? You can be a bad influence on me."_

_"I have that effect on people." Rachel shrugs, before leaning in to kiss Frank on the temple. She then holds her hand up to offer her joint._

_"I'm driving." Frank refuses._

_"See ? Not such a bad influence now, am I ?" Rachel teases, ruffling Frank's head like he was a little brother and she was the big sister._

_"Just give me and hour or so to cool off, okay ?" Frank sighs with a humorless smirk._

_Rachel nods and heads to the RV's bed to rest and relax. Pompidou following after her._

_That night, she and Frank set up their camp a little closer to home._

_They parked sea side and spent the evening looking at the stars, talking about the constellations._

_The Big and Little Dipper where easy enough to find; and Rachel mused out loud, how those constellations were once known as bears. Specifically, the Big Bear (Mama, Rachel used to call it) or Little Bear (Cub, Rachel used to call it)._

**Flashback ends**

Rachel was pulled from memory lane when Mordred - or Wilfred as she'll be referring to him - pulled his truck to a halt.

"Where are we ?" Rachel asks, causing Wilfred to turn his head, eyeing her in genuine shock.

"Wait, you were asleep? While I was telling you of my history ?" Wilfred asks mystified "I thought you were in stunned silence when I got to my time in the Napoleonic Wars!" He says with an exasperated sigh "Now that was what I call a nostalgia trip."

Rachel looks out the window to see she's somewhere in the country side. Ventura County, she later learns. And they certainly where not alone.

There was at least thirty two parked vehicles.

The building was once either a sawmill or slaughter house, but has since turned into something else entirely. There was lights on the building and a dozen or so people walking in out or around - from within Living Colour's _Cult of Personality_ can be heard blaring on speakers.

"Okay, whatever you do, stay away from the cages." Wilfred explains.

Rachel nods as she and Wilfred step out of the Honda and make their way though the clubs.

The interior was nothing spectacular. If you've seen _Fight Club_ , or played the first two _Def Jam_ games, you'd know what to expect.

There was cages where men, women and even the odd dog was thrown in, betters passing money over to Wilfred's employees, even deadpools writing on a massive chalkboard. Some comedian even drew the Deadpool character on the board as well.

In the first fight alone, Rachel witnessed one woman beat another's face in with a hammer, before both where forcefully pulled from the cages. They where taken into a room dubbed "med ward".

The subsequent fights got worse from there.

Wilfred places a hand on Rachel's shoulder and leads her unseen towards a metal stairway. The stairs here locked by a caged and chain, and guarded by a bouncer who regards Wilfred with a nod before letting them through.

Wilfred leads Rachel to a booth reading "Employees and VIP's Only: Get Lost or Get Buried".

Wilfred has Rachel take a seat in the booth to watch the fights from a higher view.

"What is this place ?" Rachel asks.

"A fight club; haven't you noticed ?" Wilfred replies, handing Rachel a drink.

"I can see that," Rachel rolls her eyes "But what's it called ?"

"I wanted to call it Herot," Wilfred answers "I would if these people could appreciate the significance. To them, it's just The Stag House. Either way it puts money in my pocket." He gets up from his seat as says this, "Speaking of, I'll be collecting tonight's earnings. You enjoy the show."

With that, Wilfred steps out of the booth.

Rachel, however, couldn't enjoy the show. Not for a lack of trying. She's the kind who doesn't mind watching violence in movies, TV or games.

This ? Was all to real for her.

In the past hour and a half she has seen four men, three women and four dogs thrown into the ring.

The crowds where jeering and cheering as the opponents brutally beat, bite or choke eachother. Mercy certainly wasn't in their vocabulary. Some spectators went as far as to pull a person or dog who got to close to the "ring", and maim the fighters. Others would throw in blunt or sharp instruments into the cage. No doubt trying to even the odds on their bets.

At the back of Rachel's mind she had this feeling niggling in the back of her head. That nagging voice telling her how she likes the bloodshed more than she should; that there is a sense of power in breaking ones body and spirit, and perhaps she should give it a try herself.

Rachel doesn't like when these thoughts linger in her head. It's almost always convinces her they are right.

It really makes Rachel think of Frank...specifically the kind of past Frank would talk about to her. How Damon had a club of his own for these kind of things.

Pompidou was almost one such victim of the ring, had it not been for Frank being a very persuasive friend. Rachel remembers a conversation she had with Frank when they drove home from a movie date.

**Flashback begins**

_It was back in August of 2012._

_They pulled a stop for a "smoke break" just out of town to look at the sunset. The two sat on the hood of Rachel's truck._

_Or Chloe's truck that Rachel borrowed off of her._

_Rachel didn't find the sunset particularly spectacular. You see one, you see them all really._

_Maybe it was the buzz she was feeling that made her feel more relaxed. Their talk took a turn when Danzig's "Thirteen" suddenly came on the radio, and Frank recognized it as Damon's favorite song._

_"You know, I didn't think he was that bad of a guy at first," Frank says, and Rachel suddenly realizes that they where talking about Damon and how Frank got his hands on Pompidou in the first place._

_"Really ?" Rachel remarks "He struck me as a bit of a cartoony bad guy."_

_"I'm not trying to make him seem like anything he wasn't." Frank answers "I just used to think there was more to him than what was actually there, you know ?"_   
_Frank sighs before continuing "He gave me, Pompidou you know. Wanted him to be one of his dogs. Bigger ones kept eating all his food, and Pompidou wasn't growing, so Damon wanted him put down. Gave him to me to do the job."_

_"That doesn't sound like he was being generous." Rachel shrugs._

_"I thought so too. I wanted to give him to a home myself, but no shelter would take him. He was malnourished and the shelters were full, so the little scamp got settled with me." Frank says with another inhale of his joint "I was going to hide him from Damon, but when he shown up at my trailer and saw a six week old pup sleeping running out the RV, he says to me -_ Jeez, Frank looks like he's grown on you. Tell you what, you take him off my hands. Consider it this months payment! _\- Next few days, it's all gifts from Damon; toys, dog food, you name it."_

_"I see," Rachel says "When was this again ?"_

_"About a week before the fire." Frank answers "I know what you're thinking; one week, he's like my best friend, the next, I'm beating his head in while he's trying to stab me. Makes you think, just how much of my friend was real."_

_"I know the feeling." Rachel starts "I feel the same about my dad."_

_Frank freezes when he hears that "Rachel, look- about your mom."_

_"You saved her life Frank. And you saved Chloe too-"_

_"Rach, I know what you're saying." Frank starts "It just doesn't work that way."_

_"But we have the mone-"_

_"No, you have the money." Frank says "I can't always have you buying off Chloe's debts. Eventually you're going to go broke."_

_"But it's Chloe's money too!" Rachel pipes up, before speaking more timidly "We went out of town for Chloe's birthday a few weeks back. I won't bore you the details, but we were able to raise 3200$ together." Rachel explains. One of the boring details was getting Chloe to her ovum's to an out of town clinic._

_"And you two hold out on me because...?" Frank asks suspiciously._

_"You know...for when we go for go for good." Rachel says, somewhat timidly but also knowing it would be a difficult subject for Frank to change to the matter at hand._   
_"And you can get Chloe's half ?"_

_"I can talk to her," Rachel says, leaving out the bit that she of Chloe to blow four hundred of her own share in their subsequent party adventures "What does 1200 cover ?"_

_"May, June, and July." Frank says "That gives her another month to pay off. I was lenient for a while given her parents anniversary and dad's birthday. I can only go soft for so long."_

  
_"Just let me talk to her," Rachel says "I can be very persuasive...but let's not think about that now."_

_And so started Rachel's habit of taking Chloe's share of the little nest egg they started to pacify Frank._

_It was dirty business, and in retrospect being a dirty friend, but as Rachel's grandfather once said "Miners gotta get their hands dirty, till they strike gold."_

**Flashback ends**

"How'd you enjoy the show ?" Wilfred's voice asks as he steps back into the booth.

Rachel nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his hand on the back of her neck.

"I-I-" Rachel started to stutter as she looked up at Wilfred. Wilfred notices as Rachel wiped her eyes.

"Was still in dreamland, were you ?" Wilfred asks counting tonight's earnings of 4550$.

"More like memory lane." Rachel answers truthfully.

"What got you nostalgic ?" Wilfred asks looking around "Anything in particular ?"

Rachel looks away, before taking out her phone "I was just thinking about what I left back home."

Wilfred sighs with a nod before taking his seat across from Rachel.

"You miss your friend do you ?" Wilfred puts a hand on her shoulder "We've both been looking into your story for a while know. No doubt it's bringing back something that shouldn't be there."

Rachel actually feels her eyes water at how calm and understanding he's sounding.

"They're talking about her, you know ? And right about now, there's nothing I wouldn't give to reach out and-" Rachel starts before Wilfred interrupts her.

"And reveal to the world that you are not actually dead ? That would shoot the narrative of Arcadia Bay's Lost Princess in the foot. Wouldn't that be a kick to the crotch ?" He says with a snicker "A temptation to strong for a girl who thought she was stronger. There too are times where I wish I could go back to a more simple time. Before I got to where I am, but as far as I can tell, time travel isn't a gift my mother could give."

"I just want them to stop." Rachel says with a sniff "They all but parade my corpse around, tell stories about a version of me that didn't exist. And when the people who actually cared tried to speak-"

Wilfred interrupts her again "You're talking about your father's favorite scapegoats."

Rachel nods weakly.

"I see; they can't blame the lonely rich boy for his actions; a victim of mental illness; no agency; no control. The teacher ? Well, let's just say I have seen the Bundy trials. But this little punk girl on the wrong side of the tracks ? Easiest target in the world."

As Wilfred says this, he pauses to let Rachel soak this information in.

"Moralists, Rachel." Wilfred says "The definition of moralizing is for one to hold another accountable for a standard they themselves don't actually believe. It exists so people can pat themselves on the back and say - Thank you, God, that I am not like other people; extortioners, unjust, adulterers or even like this Tax Collector."

Wilfred takes Rachel by the chin, directing her to look out the booth "See those people in this crowd ?"

Rachel nods.

"I can guarantee you the exact people demonizing your loved one, are the kind of people you'd see in this crowd. The reason they moralize, Miss Amber, is to distract themselves from the fact they are far worse."

Wilfred explains, all but back to being Mordred at this point.

"That it is in fact, to hurt each other is base human nature. They fight amongst each other. Kill, rape attack to their hearts content; that is why I run these businesses Miss Amber, to show people what they really are. We bring down the system that breeds it, using it's own weaknesses. And yet they still look for an adulteress to cast stones at. Even the more passive ones, faceless, nameless goons behind a computer screen, wringing their hands or clutching their pearls, making appeals to law and authority; you would be hard pressed to find one not hiding a horrid porn history, frequenting Nice Guy forms, or..." Wilfred shudders on this bit "Sonic fans."

Despite herself, Rachel found herself laughing “What's wrong with them ?”

"If you don't know now, I'll spare your innocence." He says with a snarky smile, before deflating "But trust me, I'll give you a list of names to avoid looking up. There's Alice in the Rabbit Hole, and then there is Dante in the Inferno."

"I'll keep that in mind." Rachel laughs again before looking back at the crowd.

She sees three people walking out of a room with the sign "Med Ward". It wasn't an interesting sight in on itself, but it was the fact these where the same people who where left bloody and broken to the point of near death. When they where dragged into that room by Wilfred's employees, Rachel figured they where putting them out of their misery.

And yet when they come out from the room they are healthy as a horse, and off to collect a set of bills she later learned was "insurance" as Wilfred called it.

"Hey, so...what's up with that ?" Rachel asks.

"Oh that ?" Wilfred remarks "I told you we'd be going to one of my farms. Now that I collected tonight's pay, I guess sooner is better than later."  
Wilfred takes out a few more wads and hands them to Rachel.

"How good at you at counting and dividing ?" He asks.

Rachel fakes a humorous snort and rolls her eyes "Please, that's what I was taught in pre school."

"Then you can multi task. Follow me." Wilfred leads Rachel out the booth and down the stairs.

As they make their way to Wilfred's Honda, Rachel finally asks "What am I supposed to be counting ?"

"Employees keep the place otherwise clean and otherwise safe; they get twenty five present in total and we split it from there. We pay them monthly to build up their earnings. Fighters get forty percent of their own winnings; an additional fifteen if they need insurance. They take a dive after betting against themselves ? They get a trip to the hospital, out of their own pockets." Wilfred explains "They get their pay every two weeks."

Settling into the Honda, Wilfred turns on the ignition before looking to Rachel as she takes her seat.

"But you want to see where the real magic happens."

\-----

Hours later, somewhere in the AM hours, the Honda pulls into a farmland on the outskirts of Desert Shores.

The place was a ranch of sorts, a fairly large spot of land covering forty acres.

Place was what one would expect, with a large barn, one large house, and six trailers in the fields.

What stood out to Rachel was the presence of armed guards and a metal gate and fence surrounding the territory.

One such guard looks cautiously as Wilfred pulls his truck to the gate.

What the guard says genuinely confuses Rachel; "Don't Come Around Tonight..." he says expectantly.

Calm and collected, Wilfred answers him "Oh It's Bound To Take Your Life; There's A Bad Moon On The Rise."

Wilfred takes off his shades and looks to the Guard with a smile. Rachel notices how the bright green in Wilfred's eyes seem to flicker.

"Hey there, Benson. How's your sister ?" Wilfred says.

"Jessie, she's uh..." The guard, Benson starts to stutter.

"Out of the hospital ? Got that broken leg of hers paid off ?" Wilfred says with a boyish, toothy smile.

Benson stares, mouth agape and almost paralyzed in appearance. Wilfred chuckles before he speaks again.

"Look man, if you needed a raise, you just had to ask. Don't need you sneaking your hands in the cookie jar."  
Wilfred starts his truck up, and prepares to drive through the now open gate.

"Good evening, Benson." Wilfred says, waving as he passes.

"Does he know what we are ?" Rachel asks, looking over her shoulder as the gate clothes.

"My employees ? Quite a few of them know WHAT I am, but few know my true name." Wilfred explains as they pull into a drive way.

Rachel and Wilfred step out to see a pair of Rottweiler's, Siberian Husky's and a Pit Bull, going about their business or lying about. Guard dogs no doubt, but they look away from Wilfred's very gaze. On the farmhouse porch sits six men, sharing smokes and drinks, stopping to regard their boss as he walks up to them.

"This way, madam." Wilfred says as he leads Rachel to the porch.

"Hey boss," a particularly large man with a beard asks "Whose the new meat ?"

"There's a right way to ask a question Joe," Wilfred replies "And I think you would do yourself a solid to be less euphemistic regarding my new business partners."  
"Of course," The big guy, Joe says, averting his gaze from Wilfred.

Wilfred turns back to Rachel "This is it; where the magic happens, my own little Wonka Factory. Why don't you introduce yourself ?"  
Rachel takes a few seconds to think of a new name "Scarlet Rivers."

The six men greet her with variations of "Hello Scarlet" or "Hey Miss Rivers." As Wilfred leads Rachel by the hand into the farmhouse.

"Factory's in the basement. Showers are upstairs, because you're going to need them for what you're about to see.

As he leads her down the hall, Rachel quickly notices and gets annoyed by the tune he's humming.

"Come with me and you'll be," Wilfred starts to sing in a whimsical tone of voice "In a world of pure imagination..."

"Don't." Rachel says with a stern annoyance.

"You're no fun." Wilfred remarks.

When they reach the steps and door to the basement, Wilfred cracks open the door and a foul odor fills the air. A smell of fresh blood and decay.  
It took Rachel back to when she first awoke as this.

Heading down the steps and to the large concrete room beneath them, Rachel gets a stronger whiff of decay that stars in the pit of her stomach and starts to boil in her chest.  
"Buckets in the corner." Wilfred suggests "But I'd advise against contaminating the factory."

As cliché as it sounded the sight was like something from a shock value horror film. Like if Breaking Bad was made by Eli Roth.

Strapped to eight tables, was eight...people for the lack of a better word.

Pale, emaciated, almost decaying people stripped, spread out, while three different people in white jackets were working throughout the makeshift laboratory.  
They white jackets where smeared in a black and red liquid, as the "doctors" poked and prodded these victims in ways that are best left undescribed.

It brought to mind what little she felt Nathan and Jefferson do to her when she first left this world.

It was almost enough to make her vomit on the spot, but instead she ran up the stairs and to the nearest bathroom.

It was there she ignored to unkempt state of said room, as she regurgitates a mess into the commode.

She saw she didn't close the door as Wilfred - Mordred as he was now - stares her down.

"I warned you, it's retched work." He says, leaning to the side of the wall, lighting a cigarette "But someone's gotta do it."

"Wh- what the hell was that ? What were you doing to those people ?" Rachel asks, looking up and wiping her mouth off.

"People ? You may have heard about those high schoolers who disappeared in Indiana ?" Wilfred asks.

Rachel doesn't know how to respond, but just shakes her head "No."

"You know, those like minded to Nathan Prescott...Mark Jefferson ? Tried to emulate their style on three freshmen, if you catch my meaning." Mordred answers "Got a smack on their wrists, and when it caught the attention of one of our associates. We did the rest."

Mordred crouches down to Rachel and offers her a cigarette.

Rachel was still at a loss for words.

"I mean if you want to sympathize with potential rapists...it's not like they're exactly human anymore." Mordred explains, he sets Rachel up, and leads her to the houses dining room while she's still too mortified to speak of her own accord.

"It's here we create Black Water. Officially, it's a liquid narcotic. Unofficially, it's vampire venom mixed with the blood of the user. Knights of the Round used to use it all the time." Mordred says as he takes his seat at the amusingly circular shaped dining room table "It's how the myth of the Holy Grail started; guess you can say it's a family recipe of ours!" He finishes with a light chuckle.

Once again, Rachel is barley responsive, other than just staring at Mordred with wide eyes.

"It's not for everyone," Mordred shrugs "And there is set backs; being dangerously addictive and if overused, a rather frightening case of the munchies." He explains, leaving out the bit that said "munchies" entails cannibalism "But it can heal internal injuries, internal bleeding, broken bones; it's how we medicate our fighters at the Stag House."  
"You...take their venom ?" Rachel says finally able to speak coherent words.

"That's what I just said. The Guard used to use it all the time." Mordred explains "Then there's our distribution of damphir blood."

"A-and what does that do ?" Rachel asks timidly.

"It's the reason you don't burn up in daylight like the others do..." Mordred gets up "Damphirs, as well as born vampire children, in general are a rarity, but despite what some may tell you, it's not impossible to create one...it just takes lots of work to do it."

Once again, Rachel says nothing.

Mordred continues; "Born vampires...damphirs. There's really not that much difference; with vampires by birth, they are effectively normal until puberty. If they succumb to the beast within at any point in life, they become like you and no different than what you'd expect from a vampire. If they resist the beast, they live, grow old and die as humans. Albeit, with a longer than normal life span."

"And damphirs ?" Rachel asks, once again finding her voice.

"They stop aging at a certain adult stage in their life. Not as strong as vampires, in fact most of them aren't expected to life into adulthood." Mordred says "At least they can withstand the sun."

"So..." Rachel starts, trying to connect the dots "You mean to say you take the blood...of children ?"

Mordred scoffs at this "Oh, no! We get our damphir blood from a very close source I like to call; Yours Truly!" He says, gesturing to himself.

Mordred gets up from his seat and circles behind Rachel, putting his hands on her shoulders. Rachel doesn't know how to react, and just sits there, still hazed from her stunned silence.

"I will not deny what I am, Rachel Amber." Mordred says "I have fought in nine wars before the twentieth century. I have been involved in some of the great atrocities you read of in history. If my role in any of these where brought up in those history books, I would either be seen a monster or hero, depending on the conversation. I have played the chameleon game for so long, that much like you, I find myself unsure of who I really am. But like you I now have the guidance to show me the way; all this to bring down a system we both know is rotten. I would like to say I am not going to force you into this life, but the truth is...I have no more of a choice than you do; you're in our debt, bound to us by blood and we have to find you some place in the world to come. The first thing you learned when we got to you was your new place in this. I will give you time to think of your role in this, but for now ? I recommend you shower."

As Mordred says this, he hoists Rachel up to her feet, and with a simple nudge, pushes her towards the stairs.

After that, Rachel takes one step after another up the stairs, and down the hall, already undressing as she makes her way to the shower room.

\----  
The next morning, Rachel was on the road again, still wearing the same clothes as the past two days.

When Rachel returns home, she was told she was given three days to think over her decision.

Over the car ride, she was lectured by Mordred.

"You may find our organization disagreeable, Miss Amber, but I can assure you, we have nothing but your best interests at heart." Mordred would say.

"There are other organizations that you will find very disagreeable. And they have nothing but your destruction in mind."

She was told of the Ascalon club - or as they go by "New Ascalon" - and their leader and founder, Lady Ashbury, or "Blackwood" as Mordred calls her.

"I know what you may think of me, but do you believe that I would be lesser company than a woman who slaughtered an actual orphanage of children ?" Mordred would ask her "The club she leads, only seek to continue the old system. And don't get me started on her champion..."

"Champion ?" Rachel would ask.

"Jonathan Reid," Mordred says with a notable grimace in his voice "The last known champion of Myrddin Wilt. In the past ninety six years, he has been a stake in our hearts. He killed many women my mother tried to save, and turned others against our cause."

"Can you tell me why that's a bad thing ?" Rachel asks, finding a little bit of her courage "Sounds to be about the same as your little club."

"Fair enough," Mordred shrugs "But it's best you forget morality when it comes to war; in recent years, Lady Blackwood and her club has taken to ruthless extremes against our cause; she had the lot of us killed, talked others into betrayal, even invaded the minds of our loyalists. In 2008, Reid came the closest to killing me than anyone else since my father. My sources inside the Guard tells me he disappeared from their custody months ago. We also found out they too have access to damphir blood, which usually doesn't bode well if you look at their family history in recent decades."

Rachel pause "Say I don't believe you. That you aren't a reliable narrator ? What makes you think they won't talk me into their cause ?"

"In World War II, Reid killed one of my mothers champions when she tried to save her ailing brother's life." Mordred says, being intentionally vague about the details "She was fourteen." He adds "What makes you so sure he won't do the same to you without a seconds hesitation ? Whatever you think of us, Rachel, we are trying to help people and fix the world. Is that not a dream you wish you could be part of ? Rather than be a part of Blackwood's club ? You may not trust our word, but our word is all you have."

As he finishes the lecture, Mordred turns in to drive through the Hollywood Hills, making his way to Rachel's address.

"Tell you what; I'll give you three days to think things over...or else I'll have to take to drastic measures." Mordred says, pulling in on Rachel home in the Hills "I really don't want to see something happen to another one of my mothers girls, and I'm sure you've seen the many ways you can better benefit for aligning with us."

Rachel hasn't been in the sun in nearly a year. Not with it causing her to blister. She's been told it really depends on how much damphir blood you get in your system. Her usual spiked dosage was a bottle caps worth; just slowed her down in daylight hours. A pint will give you a day (which was currently in her system to "cool her down"), and two leters will give you a week if you drink it all at once.

When Rachel steps out of the jeep, and Mordred drives off signs friendly wave, she looks up to see the sun.

The more she look up at it, the more she realized she missed the natural light and warmth it gave her.

This compared to the "warmth" Mordred tried to give with his friendly attitude, ironically made Rachel shudder up her spine.

Rachel steps into her home and let's the last nights events and Mordred's lecture to her flurry through her head.

Rachel walks towards her bedroom and slops down onto her bed in an exhausted heap. After a few moments, she drifted off to sleep. ore of a force of habit she picked up over the past of few months, and a genuine tiredness from the night.

By the time Rachel woke up the sky was a red orange color.

She was jolted awake by a missed phone call from Steph.

Rachel was ghosting her calls all of last night and the night before, and was out of excuse's now that she was home.

Picking her phone up and dialing a return number, she mumbles a bit when she asks "Hey, Steph sorry to keep you waiting; was on a bit of a bender..."

"Hey Viv," Steph's voice answers. In the few phone calls they shared, Steph would call Rachel "Viv" as a sign that Cathy was with her.

"Is that about your show ?" Rachel asks "I didn't think you'd still be doing shows with your hand in the cast ?"

"It's not that," Steph says in an uncharacteristically timid and somber voice "I can't stay on the phone too long. Cath and I are going to be out of town..."

"Okay..." Rachel starts unsure of herself "And you want me to check the m-"

"No, nothing like that." Rachel could practically hear Steph shake her head insistently "Cathy and I are going to be gone for a while. She just wanted me to let you know..."  
This made Rachel tense. Given what she seen/heard/learned of Cathy, she had some suspicions, but couldn't exactly connect the dots. But if her suspicions are confirmed....  
Rachel practically felt her fangs start to bare as she grit her teeth at the thought.

"Where you going to go ?" Rachel asks.

"Cathy didn't say."

"How long will you be out of town ?" Rachel asks again.

"That's for Cathy to decide." Steph says in a practically monotone voice.

"Do you want me to come over ?" Rachel asks "You know, to lend a hand ?"

"No!" Steph says insistently "No, Viv. Just leave me and Cathy to it. I'll be fine. Don't worry. Please, don't worry."

"This is giving me the opposite effect, you know." Rachel says in her head before speaking out loud "Okay then...I'll see you around, Steph."

"Please Viv," Steph says "Don't worry yourself. I'll be fine...Cathy and I have to work some stuff out." She ends the call with a "Goodbye, Viv."

When the call hangs up, Rachel gets back up from her bed and paces around the house. She didn't notice she was huffing and puffing at first, and didn't know how long she was going at it until she eventually looked out the window on her balcony, and saw the sky was a dark blue.

Rachel didn't know what she was thinking or why, but she was probably letting her feelings get the better of her when she went to pick up her phone.  
She was given Mordred's number - listed as "Miles Winter" and calls.

"Speaking," His voice answers.

"It's me..." Rachel sighs.

"I know who it is, I have caller ID you know." He replies "I take it you have made your decision ?"

"I still have three days, do I ?" Rachel asks.

"Indeed you do, but I doubt this is a social call. Let me advise you that it is in your best interests not to stab me in the back, if you expect me to scratch yours."  
"I need a favor, we can talk what I owe you when the time comes." Rachel says "It's...it's for a friend."

"I see." He answers.

"Can you look into someone for me ? It's just I'm looking for dirty laundry; addresses, workplaces, associates. Closet skeletons. Things like that."

"I'll see what I can find." He answers "Does this person have a name ?"

"Cathy Mortimer."

\----

**January 30th, 2015, Los Angeles**

Another day, another chipper jog for Rachel Amber, clad in a red sports bra and skin tight blue shorts.

Still dead to the world, she found two places in the new one to come.

When Mordred reached out to her, it took some talking, negotiations and deals, but they worked something out.

To some, she was Vivian Manning, an aspiring if struggling model for Hollywood but had a few friends in the industry. Some offered her jobs on TV or movies, and to keep up her façade, she turned them down. She was practically a party animal of La La Land, and with her weekly doses of damphir blood, she was free to make her marks day and night. Movie premieres, back stage passes, she was living (part) of her girlhood dreams. And all she needed was to cut or color her hair, and going in front of cameras was a none issue.  
The most she could accept was being part of a music video that entailed her to wear a mask.

To others, she was Scarlet Rivers. A girl from the wrong side of the tracks, who was never seen any where near Los Angeles. Unlike Vivian, she never appeared in front of a camera, which made hair and makeup jobs a non issue. This is despite what part of her role she runs in Miles Winter's and Gerald Wilfred's respective businesses.

The official story with Wilfred was that he's in hiding. Some say, in the Florida Everglades, after very disagreeable people came to close to finding his address. Winter ? Missing and presumed dead when from a plane crash in the Pacific North West. This kept "Scarlet" in charge of finances for Wilfred's earnings from his Stag House; as part of their deal, she gets forty five percent of Wilfred's pay.

As with Miles disappearance, Scarlet was left as one of his de facto bosses in his porn studios and strip clubs, getting twenty five percent of the other bosses cuts. Most of that job entails Scarlet taking in the new girls - the recruiter if you will; sometimes she let's them join, sometimes she has to talk them out of their choices when she isn't too sure of them, etc.

And other times, Rachel had to make a few "rivals" disappear.

As of late, she is still yet to hear anything from Mordred, or even his mothers voice.

Hell, with enough money, Rachel was able to buy out their house in both her and her we girlfriends name.

Returning home from her afternoon jog, Rachel enters her home to hear her girlfriend/housemate laughing and chatting with someone unseen.

"Steph ?" Rachel asks.

"Oh ? In here, honey." Steph's voice answers in warm tone to of voice.

Rachel smiles as she kicked off her running shoes. Normally she'd take that workout bra and shorts off in the privacy of her own home, and ask Steph if she'd like to join her in the pool or shower.

As of yet in their relationship, Rachel and Steph were still yet to have sex; a personal boundary Steph set up until she was sure she was "ready" after Cathy was out of the picture. Still, cuddling on the bed and sofa or even the pool side, was a favorite pass time of theirs. And at the very least they where comfortable enough with eachothers bodies.  
And sometimes a shower buddy was welcome.

But a of now, any of that was on hold.

"Why didn't you send me a heads up ?" Rachel asks as she makes her way to the living room, still in her sweat soaked clothes.

Steph was sitting in the couch, and sitting across from her at the coffee table was another woman.

She appeared to be in her late twenties to early thirties; dressed in a white Hills Tank Top, black skinny jeans that shown off her figure and red high heels. She had bright red hair, and it was done in what would later be called "The Karen Cut".

At her side was a small black pug with a collar reading "Julius".

This woman and Steph where sipping tea while a movie was playing in the TV for background noise.

"Oh sorry Viv," Steph answers, remembering to call Rachel by her "public name" with guests over "Had a little mishap with the neighbors dog As you can see, one thing lead to another."

"Sorry about that," The woman replies with a British accent "Julius here gets rather excited when we go for walks. He's new to this and still getting used to things."

"Little bugger ran right up to me I while I was washing our cars." Steph adds "Must have liked my music."

It was a Brittney Spears album she was playing. Clearly, this dog is one of culture.

The woman sets her pug aside and step up her her chair to shake Rachel by the hand.

"Eliza Ashbury," She says shaking Rachel's hand "At your service."

"Vivian Manning," Rachel replies "But I guess you already knew that."

"Your other half and I have been getting acquainted. My own significant other and I have bought a house up the road. We've been scoping the neighborhoods." Ashbury explains "We were hoping to meet our neighbors under different circumstances, but Julius had other ideas."

As she says this, the pug immediately scampers up to Steph, crawling on the couch, where upon the human girl is quick to play a game off tummy rubs.

"I see," Rachel says "Out of curiosity, are you in the business as well or do you plan to be ?"

"Not in cinema or the like, although I own a publishing company." Ashbury explains "Speaking of; Miss Gingrich and I have been talking about your writing projects...those vampire books of yours."

" _The Lost Chronicles_ ," Rachel and Steph answer at the same time.

In between their lives at home or in the city, Rachel and Steph have been working on a pet project of there's. In the first few weeks they where together, Rachel told Steph all kinds of stories to get her through recovery - basically revisions of classic myths and legends, with the added addition of vampires and werewolves, and other such monsters were none were present.

Steph, still a theatre student at heart, appealed to Rachel's inner literary student and talked her into writing a manuscript from these stories. Under the pseudonym of Vivian Manning of course.

"What about it ?" Rachel asks.

"Miss Asbury here says she's very interested in checking out what we written." Steph explains.

"I must admit, I found the concept curious." Ashbury explains "Years back we had a similar novelization in mind; a combination of history, mythology in folklore in a revised narrative. We scrapped the story at the time, but I'd be lying if what Miss Gingrich told me didn't revive my former interest."

As Ashbury says this, she excuses herself to look around the room, showing a particular interest in their bookshelf.

"Ah, I see you are an owner of _Red Dead_." Ashbury notes taking the book off the shelf and flipping through the pages "I myself own a first addition copy. Autographed by the author no less." She adds, not mentioning she was the original publisher and her copy came with a "thank you" letter for getting the author out of a bad place.

"About _The Lost Chronicles_..." Rachel says "We are still quite a ways away from finishing them; and to be honest we were not looking to get them published at first."

"That's quite alright. I don't need to see it now." Asbury starts "That being said, I would like to discus it further with you on a later occasion." She says, putting _Red Dead_ back on it's shelf.

"My other half and I are holding a house warming party for some friends we have in the Hills, once we are settled in. Your own rep as a party animal not withstanding, I would like for you to come." Ashbury says, crouching down, while Julius scampers towards his owner.

"We'll see." Steph says.

"You know," Rachel adds "If we have a clear schedule."

Ashbury stands up and smirks, pug in one of her arms. She looks to a set of notes they have on a desk and makes her way towards it. Taking hold of a pen, she writes down a number and hands the note to Rachel.

"Till then, I look forward to making more of your acquittance." Ashbury states "Business or otherwise."

With that, Asbury and her pet made their way out the front door.

After a moment, Rachel turns to Steph.

"So honey, you up for some pool time ?"


End file.
